


Do MTs Dream of Electric Sheep

by notthelasttime



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (I'm told it's readable even if you haven't seen Blade Runner), (probably because I have bastardized canon to hell and back), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blade Runner AU, Blade Runner!Ignis, Canonical Character Death, Denial of Feelings, First Kiss, M/M, Major Character Injury, Replicant!Prompto, Slow Burn, the AU that nobody wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2018-10-01 04:59:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthelasttime/pseuds/notthelasttime
Summary: In the mid 8th Century M.E., the Caelum Corporation advanced Magitek evolution into the next phase, creating MTs virtually identical to humans - known as Replicants. The MT 6 Replicants were equal in strength, agility, and intelligence to the genetic engineers that created them and were used as outer-city slave labor, in the hazardous clearing and recapturing of locations throughout Eos overrun by daemons. After a bloody mutiny by an MT 6 Replicant combat team, they were declared illegal in the city of Insomnia - under penalty of death.Special police squads - Blade Runner Units - had orders to shoot to kill, upon detection, any trespassing Replicant.This was not called execution.It was called retirement.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> philip k dick is going to break into my house and set my couch on fire for this
> 
>  
> 
> it's been ages (AGES) since I've written any sort of fic, so I'm apologizing in advance for any mistakes/shoddy writing/bad judgement. I cherry-picked what I wanted both from ffxv canon and the plot of Blade Runner, and bastardized the rest, so anything that doesn't make sense is entirely on me.

 

 **INSOMNIA**  
**NOVEMBER M.E. 756**

 

Rain was pouring down from overhead - hard. 

Insomnia was a flurry of activity even at night, and the persistent downpour was doing nothing to deter the steady flow of people hurrying past each other, knocking shoulders and raising umbrellas out of the way without so much as a passing glance. The streets were bright with the neon signs of shops and advertisements reflected in every puddle on the street, and there was the constant white noise of the city, of voices shouting to be heard and the engines of passing spinners, all the while an ad was playing on repeat, promoting the latest success in territorial gain over the daemons that had been infesting every corner of Eos unchecked.

" _A new life awaits you in Altissia! The chance to begin again, in a golden land of opportunity and adventure! A new life_...."

Ignis Stupeo Scientia barely heard any of it; he was busy eating dinner. 

The street-side diner's location was hardly ideal, but Ignis was willing to put up with a little rain and commotion for the promise of good food, and besides, Coctura was an old friend.  
Though he was mostly there for the food. 

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder hard enough to make Ignis drop the noodles that had been half way up to his mouth back into the bowl. 

"You're under arrest, Mr. Scientia," said the man behind him. He sounded amiable enough, but after a look over his shoulder, Ignis assumed that a man of his size would rarely need to rely on verbal intimidation to get what he wanted. 

"I'm sorry, I believe you have the wrong man," he said, and scooped his noodles back out of the bowl.

"You're a Blade Runner."

"I'm eating."

"Captain Cor Leonis asked me to bring you in," he said, and now there was genuine amusement in his voice. If Cor had sent him, then this man was no errand boy. Arguing would accomplish very little, resistance even less so. Ignis sighed and dropped his chopsticks. Dinner was over, apparently. 

The man led Ignis out of the crowded alley and into the main drag where his spinner was parked. People seemed all too eager to get out of his new companion's way, likely due to the size of him. Ignis was hardly a small man himself, but the newcomer was both taller and broader, his body thick with muscle. The rain had Ignis pulling his trench coat tighter to keep his suit dry, but the man seemed to pay no mind, his jacket open and his arms bare, leaving his extensive tattoos on display.   

It wasn't until they were in the spinner and taking off into the air that he introduced himself. "Gladiolus Amicitia," he said, holding out a large hand, which Ignis shook, despite his reservations. "Call me Gladio."  
He was full of an easy overconfidence that Ignis would have written off as nothing but bravado if Gladio didn't seem so genuine. There was a dark scar trailing vertically down the left side of his face, and Gladio wore it like a badge of honor. Clearly he was no stranger to action. 

Gladio was at ease during their ride, the smile never really leaving his eyes, despite his large body being cramped in the tight space of the vehicle. Ignis couldn't feel quite so comfortable, knowing that if he was on his way to meet Cor Leonis his night was surely only going to get worse. He resigned himself to looking out over the city as Gladio navigated the air space to the station.

Insomnia, for all its faults, could still be beautiful at times, even blurred through sheets of pouring rain. It was overcrowded thanks to the threat of daemons, but the clean lines of the architecture still made for an elegant skyline. At night the city was awash with lights and colors, from billboards, neon signs, and the ever present flood lights to keep daemons at bay. The lights were at this point a precaution more than anything though, ever since Dr. Caelum had come up with the crystal technology used to create the wall of protection around Insomnia. The Magitek shock troops and armored mechs that patrolled the city streets were his creation as well. They had once been championed as the means to finally rid Eos of it's daemon infestation, but.... that was before the Replicants. 

Gladio deftly brought the spinner to land on the dock at the top of the station. He turned to look at Ignis, amusement still on his face, "We're here." 

 

 

Captain Cor Leonis was not an _un_ kind man, per se, though 'humorless' and 'stern' were both apt descriptors of his personality. 

And Ignis had not exactly left him on good terms. 

Gladio led him through the police station, as more of a formality than anything. Ignis was no stranger here, as much as he wanted to pretend otherwise. He braced himself at Cor's door and after taking a breath to steel himself against what was to come, he let himself in without knocking.

Cor was waiting for him of course, and he didn't bother to look away from the view of Insomnia out of his office window, keeping his back to Ignis.

"Have a seat." 

Everything about the situation was wrong, all the evidence Ignis had at his disposal told him whatever was happening, it was something he did not want to get dragged in to. 

He sat. 

Quietly, Gladiolus let himself into the office as well, closing the door behind him and squeezing himself into a seat at the back of the office, all the while Cor stood unmoving. Ignis considered speaking, then thought better of it. Best not say something that might be used against him when he didn't even know why he was here. Finally, Cor turned around, a scowl on his face as he looked over Ignis, and then he began to speak. 

"I've got three skin jobs on the streets. I need you to take care of it."

 _Oh_. So that's what this was about.

"Absolutely not," Ignis said, but Cor continued talking as though he hadn't heard him.

"They were part of a combat crew in Gralea. Five of them. They took control of a mech, cut their way through MT troops and got their hands on an airship. 23 dead. Patrols spotted the airship outside Insomnia city walls, but no sign of the Replicants. Then three nights ago they tried to break in to the Caelum Corporation. Two got fried running through an electrical field, we lost the others."

Ignis pushed his glasses up with his thumb and forefinger, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Send Aranea," he said, "She's good. She can handle it."

"I did."

Cor met his gaze, not saying anything for a moment, letting Ignis assume the worst, then said. "It'll be a while before she's out of the hospital." Another pause, then, "We thought they might try to infiltrate Caelum Corporation as employees. I sent her over to run Voight-Kampff tests on the new workers. Seems she found one." 

Ignis felt his jaw clench, knowing that his resolve was already weakening, though due to misguided loyalty for Cor or Aranea, he wasn't sure which. 

"I'm going to need you to follow up on what she found," Cor said, and Ignis found himself sighing.

"Funny, I seem to remember quitting."

"Congratulations," Cor said without a trace of humor, "you're re-hired."

 

 

Cor led him to one of the evidence rooms so he could bring Ignis up to speed on what they were dealing with, while Gladio trailed silently behind them. The room was filled with monitors, filing cabinets, and a desk that was far too large for such a small space, and it was dark. Cor wasted no time pulling up the information he wanted on screen, and Ignis thought about how desperate he must be to have had him dragged back into active duty. This was the kind of mess that Cor wanted over and done with, knowing the longer it went on, the worse it looked. Having three Replicants loose in the city was bad enough, but the fact that they had taken Aranea out as well was only rubbing salt in the wound. It made things personal.

" _Reaction time is a factor in this, so do me a favor and_ pay attention...."

Cor had started the video of Aranea's Voight-Kampff test, her voice, ever cynical, was audible, but she wasn't on screen. Instead it was only the subject of the test. His hair was blond enough to look white in the unflattering lighting of the video, and he wore an expression of thinly veiled dislike as Aranea began her questioning.

" _1-1-8-7 Hunter Vasser_ -"

" _That's the hotel._ "

" _Hotel?_ "

" _Where I live.... Is this part of the test?_ "

"Gralea's been a hot zone recently, with the increase in daemon activity out in Niflheim," Cor said, giving background on the situation. "Caelum's been dead set on clearing the area though, and they've been sending a steady supply of weaponry and combat teams. All kinds of MTs, not just Replicants. They've got people out there, keeping an eye on it all, of course, but the area's practically a war zone. Can't imagine there are enough patrols to keep things under control when shit hits the fan. The Replicants saw an opportunity and took it."

" _You're in a desert, walking along in the sand when all of a sudden you look down_...."

"I'm not sure I understand..." Ignis began hesitantly, still working things out in his mind, "so they break out of Gralea- fine, not surprising given the circumstances. But why come back to Insomnia? They have an airship at their disposal, they could go anywhere, why would they come back and knowingly put themselves in danger once again? And why try to break into Caelum Corporation... what could they be after?"

Cor met his eyes across the table and said, "You tell me."

Ignis turned his attention back to the test and heard Aranea purr in the velvety tone of voice she reserved for questioning, " _Describe, in single words, only the good things that come to mind about your Mother_."

" _My Mother?_ " he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching. " _I'll tell you about my Mother_ -"

With the resounding noise of a gunshot, the video abruptly cut off. It was quickly replaced on screen with the test subject's information, and a clear image of his face:  
_NOX FLEURET (Ravus)  
Combat_

"MT 6, Ravus," Cor said, "A combat model designed for strength and agility, seems he put it to good use when fleeing the Caelum Corporation. Can't imagine he's calling the shots though."

Another Replicant came on screen, with red-brown hair and amber eyes, and Ignis found something about him to be unsettling, as though he was staring at him through the monitor.

"MT 6 Ardyn Izunia. Engineering and mechanical repair unit, optimum self sufficiency." Ignis had raised an eyebrow at that, but Cor only shrugged. "Something breaks down in the middle of the night in the thick of a daemon infestation, who would you rather send? Izunia's most likely the leader and from what we've heard, the instigator of the escape. The men in Gralea said he was the one that got his hands on the mech."

The third and final Replicant came on screen, blond, but not like Ravus's white-blond. Yellow-blond like sunshine, and wide blue eyes. Ignis read  the information displayed at the bottom of the screen:  
_ARGENTUM (Prompto)_  
_Gunman_

"Not much on the third MT 6," Cor said, "He's been keeping out of sight. His body hasn't turned up yet, so we can assume he's still on the loose, might be working Caelum from another angle, so stay on your toes. Now look... these MTs were made to copy humans in every way, except their emotions, but the designers thought that after a few years they might start to develop their own emotional responses. You know, fear, envy, hate. Love. It's made them more dangerous."

Ignis's eyes were back on the screen, lingering entirely too long on the angles of the final Replicant's face, the upward curve of his nose. It was a nice face. A pleasant face. He had freckles.

Cor was saying something else, he'd hardly noticed. Ignis took his glasses off, running a hand across his face. A lot had happened in a short period of time, and he must have been having a hard time taking it all in, that was all. Ignis had hardly expected to get sucked back into retiring Replicants. He wasn't feeling like himself, all there was to it. He would deal with the Replicants and be done with it, and wash his hands of this whole business once again.

"There's an MT 6 at the Caelum Corporation Citadel," Cor said, "I want you to put the machine on it."

Ignis spared one more glance at the Replicant on the monitor before saying, "I don't have much of a choice now, do I?"

 

 

 

Prompto was having a hard time trying to pin down what, exactly, the feeling in his chest was.

He felt light, like a weight he'd been carrying around had suddenly been lifted. _Excitement_ , maybe, or _exuberance_. Prompto supposed he didn't have to put a name to it, not really, as much some part of him wanted to. Ever since he'd arrived in Insomnia he'd been feeling a lot of things that he wasn't sure he could name, it had been a lot to take in at first- almost too much. He wouldn't let himself get overwhelmed though. His time in Insomnia was limited, and Prompto was determined to appreciate every second of it.

After digging inside of his jacket, he pulled out a camera- _his_ camera- and lined up the shot in front of him. He'd had found himself in the thick of a 24 hour market, selling questionable meat and fish, overcrowded even in the middle of the night and made all the more hectic by the unrelenting rain. 

Some people had been giving him odd looks when he'd stopped to take pictures, but Prompto's desire to document every minute spent in the city outweighed his self consciousness. Perhaps the people of Insomnia didn't have reason to remember parts of the city they found mundane, but he did. The night he arrived, Prompto had been walking past shops lining the street, when the camera in a window display of a pawn shop had caught his eye. He'd wandered in, not sure what he planned on doing since he didn't have the money to pay for it. It sat to the side in the cluttered display, clearly having been there for a while, covered in dust and long forgotten. It was old and not in the best condition, but it still seemed to work just fine. The fact that the store owner was in the middle of blatantly ripping off a customer trying to sell of a handful of jewelry made Prompto feel a little less guilty about shoving the camera into the inside of his jacket before darting back out the door. No one would miss a dusty old camera.

Time was short. He may have been a Replicant but he wasn't stupid. He knew the longer he stayed in the city the higher the risk. He'd been planning on finding a way to sneak out ever since he'd been brought here (brought here _without a choice_ , he thought bitterly). Although after the initial panic wore off, he'd had a hard time maintaining his antagonistic feelings. The city was like nothing he had ever seen before, like nothing he could have imagined existed and it was hard not to get swept up. There were so many people here- the living breathing kind, not like the endless rows of MTs with void faces and glowing eyes that he was used to. There was no constant fighting, no daemons to worry about. Night in Insomnia wasn't like night outside of the wall. People hardly noticed the darkening sky, they didn't run for cover or have to prepare for an oncoming battle that would last until the sun was up again. On top of it all the floodlights stayed bright, running on dependable power lines that didn't short out every few hours, putting them all in danger. Not like it was in Gralea. _Nothing_ like it was in Gralea.

Prompto had walked nearly everywhere that wasn't off limits to him, snapping photos along the way of anything and everything that caught his eye. In lowtown there were odd shops and restaurants, rows of stalls of vendors selling street food, the constant chatter of people laughing and bickering. Then he'd made his way north, to the shopping and financial districts. The streets were wider there, and cleaner, buildings lined up in neat rows, polished glass windows reflecting the sky, unlike the haphazard architecture in other parts of the city. People everywhere pushed past him on the street without a second glance.

They didn't know what he was.

He avoided the Citadel. 

It was the one place in the city he could do without seeing, and even spotting the top of the building that towered above the rest put a sense of unease in the bottom of his stomach. 

The Citadel was where the wall was generated from, the crystal that powered it seated deep within. The building was a marvel of engineering in and of itself, and it was guarded with vigilance. It was also the home of Dr. Caelum, head of the Caelum Corporation. 

The man that created Replicants. 

It wasn't so much that Dr. Caelum was something to fear, exactly. 

It was Ardyn.

 _Ardyn_. Prompto didn't even like thinking about him, much less what he might have planned. He knew Ardyn was after Dr. Caelum, even if the details remained a mystery. Prompto hadn't asked, and Ardyn didn't tell him. Prompto, for his part, wanted nothing to do with Ardyn's master plan, whatever it was. He hadn't planned on fighting his way out of Gralea, and he most definitely hadn't had any intention of coming to Insomnia after, that was for sure. Insomnia was a death sentence, though it wasn't as if Ardyn had given him a say in the matter. 

Gralea had been chaos. 

Wrong place, wrong time, that's all he could keep telling himself. He'd been by the mech the other MT 6s took over when they went rogue and started shooting down MT axemen instead of daemons. He'd had a front row seat to the carnage, and watched in horror as one of the rail guns ripped a patrol (a _human_ patrol) apart. They had done quite a bit of damage before anyone had even realized what was happening, and they'd secured the airship by that point, their means of escape.

And there, at the center of it all, was Ardyn.

It had to have been something they'd been planning for some time. Ardyn, Ravus, Loqi, and Caligo, they'd all been in on it, ready to make a break at the right time. 

He could still see Ardyn in his mind's eye, all charm and smiles as he'd held out his hand to Prompto, beckoning him to join them on the airship, his face calm despite the destruction around them. He should have known better. He should have know there would be a price to pay for going along with them. But reinforcements were coming, and Prompto knew if he stayed, he would have been gunned down without a second thought, no one would have taken the time to see if he was innocent or not. He was a Replicant, not like they'd give him a trial and a chance to plead his innocence. They'd have no qualms about placing blame on him for the people that the others had killed. It didn't matter that all he had done was stand there in shock while he watched it happen. Prompto had grabbed Ardyn's hand, and hopped on to the airship as the new troops swarmed in and started taking shots at them. In the end, he supposed he'd never really had a choice.

Still, he'd been given a chance to get out of Gralea and he took it. If not for that airship he still would have been stuck out there, fighting through every night with the other MTs, killing daemon after daemon. Replicants were seen as disposable, he knew that. He knew they were only a place holder until the city was safe enough to bring _real_ people in. It didn't change the fact that he'd started to feel how unfair it was. It didn't change the fact that he'd started to get scared at night, especially when the lights cut out and the daemons could come at them from any angel, his mortality suddenly heavy on his mind. It didn't change the fact that suddenly he was lonely. 

Prompto couldn't have said when exactly the change had happened, or even try to explain what that change was. All he knew was he had been fine right up until he wasn't. Things he used to do without questioning were suddenly burdens. Things he used to never take into consideration held weight to them. He used to follow his orders. He used to not care. 

They'd split ways after arriving in Insomnia. The others, privy to Ardyn's plan from the start, had been ready. They'd tried to break into the Caelum Corporation. Loqi and Caligo didn't make it out. The city tried to keep it quiet, the news bulletins that ran periodically between ads had mentioned the attempted break in, but had yet to say anything about any Replicants. And Prompto, well... he remembered Ardyn's mocking smile as they abandoned the airship and snuck into the city, the way he'd looked at Prompto while he squeezed one of his shoulders just a little too tight- a threat. " _Run along now_ ," he'd said. " _Don't worry dear boy, I'll come fetch you when I need you. Oh and_ do _be careful of the Blade Runners. They'll be after you, you know._ "

Well, run along he did. But Prompto didn't have any intention of being someone else's puppet. Not now that he was finally free. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. The city was massive, and Ardyn had no way to find him. But as much as Prompto kept telling himself the facts, he couldn't stop himself from glancing over his shoulder, or letting his eyes pan over the faces of everyone he came across, on a constant lookout for red-brown hair and amber eyes. And with it all he couldn't shake Ardyn's final warning, not when it rang in his ears like a prophecy.  

_Careful of the Blade Runners...._

_But I haven't done anything wrong. I didn't kill anyone, I just..._

He had just wanted to _live_.

Prompto bit his lip, taking one last photo before shoving his camera back into his jacket, safe from the rain, then he darted out into the street, instantly lost in the crowd. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every time I open my mouth to say something about AUs someone just needs to punch me in the face. I went from claiming I have no interest in AUs to reading everything I could get my grubby hands on to writing one myself. and so i present to you: the AU that nobody wanted, nobody asked for, and yet HERE I AM to give it to you anyway.
> 
> a handful of dialogue was taken verbatim from Blade Runner, mostly just the VK test questions 
> 
>  
> 
> thanks for reading....???? welcome to the dumpster of bad ideas that is my home


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I MAY have written most of this after having too much wine. I think I caught all the typos but........ well.

The Citadel practically seemed designed for the sole purpose of being intimidating. Which was ridiculous of course, Dr. Regis Lucius Caelum CXIII was far too practical a man to do anything for appearances only. That didn't change the fact that the building towered over everything else in the city, punctuated with clean vertical lines, and four separate towers that were bound together by gothic arches, and at the center of it all was the crystal generator that kept the wall in place. Ignis found himself waiting in a beautifully furnished room on one of the topmost floors. One wall was covered in a massive painting of the creation mythos, while another displayed an extensive arsenal of weapons, all of exceptional craftsmanship and covered in intricate carvings. The blades looked sharp enough to cut, and Ignis thought again how nothing here was for show; the weapons had most likely seen use. A long table with high backed chairs ran through the center of the room. It seemed the same rules of decor extended from outside the building to within; clean lines, dark colors, and excessive attention to detail. The thin, watery light of dawn had begun to spill over the city, a stunning view afforded by the wide glass windows along one side of the room. Daylight hours were short and precious. He wondered, with no small bit of contempt, whether the magnificent Dr. Caelum had an answer for that as well. 

Ignis forced himself to keep his irritation in check. Dr. Caelum was not a bad man, Ignis had no evidence to say otherwise. It was unfair to blame the Doctor just because he had complicated feelings about his career of choice, and that was hardly Dr. Caelum's fault.  Even if he had been the man responsible for the Replicants, Ignis couldn't lay all the blame at his feet, as much as he may have wanted to. Dr. Caelum was also responsible for the wall that kept them all safe from daemon's harm. Whatever Ignis's personal reservations about his work with Replicants may be, he still owed the man respect. At least that's what he kept telling himself. 

He heard the light tapping of nails on the polished tile floor and looked down to see something resembling a fox with pale blue fur and exceptionally large ears trot up to him. Ignis knelt down to get a better look at the curious creature, its eyes far too intelligent as it cocked it's head and looked back at him. In the center of it's forehead was a rough shard of what appeared to be ruby.

"His name's Carbuncle," a voice said, and Ignis stood to see a young man walking towards him. He held himself with a kind of aloof indifference, and seemed like the kind of person that took very little seriously. Dark hair fell in front of his face, and he wore all black. Carbuncle proceeded to walk over to the boy and sit between his feet. 

"Is it artificial?" Ignis asked.

"Obviously." The boy crossed his arms and seemed to be sizing Ignis up. "I'm Noctis."

"Ignis Scientia"

"You a Blade Runner?" he asked, and Ignis nodded. "So...." he said, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes, "You ever retire a human by mistake?"

" _No_ ," Ignis responded, and he hoped his tone conveyed the finality of the conversation, surprised by the young man's lack of tact. He was not one to make careless mistakes and didn't appreciate someone insinuating otherwise.

"There's a chance you could though, right?" Noctis asked, but as Ignis opened his mouth to give and indignant response, he was cut off.

"Have we started the empathy test already?" Another voice asked, and Ignis turned to see Dr. Caelum walking into the room in all his glory. He was impeccably dressed in a pinstripe suit and his salt and pepper beard was neatly trimmed. Still, a look at Dr. Caelum and Ignis knew why he had been avoiding the public eye as of late. There was a brace on his leg (ornate, as was everything else), and he walked stiffly with the aid of a cane. A brilliant mind in a failing body.  

"We usually refer to it as the Voight-Kampff," Ignis said as he held out his hand, which Dr. Caelum shook with a firm grip before introducing himself, and Ignis did the same. 

"I understand you're here to put my MT 6 to the test," he said. His body may have been failing him, but Dr. Caelum's mind was as sharp as ever, evident in every expression behind his eyes. "I'd like to see a negative test result before that," he said after a moment. "I want to see the test performed on a human, before I bring in the Replicant."

"I'm... not sure what it will prove," Ignis said. He wasn't opposed to the idea, not exactly, but it seemed like an odd request. Odd enough to make Ignis think there was some sort of ulterior motive. Enough to put him on edge, and once again he felt the need to remind himself that Dr. Caelum had yet to do anything to lose his respect. 

"Nothing more than sating my own curiosity," Dr. Caelum said with a wry smile. "I understand the test in theory, but I've never seen it performed. Why not try it on Noctis?" Ignis opened his mouth, then shut it again realizing he had no substantial argument to give against the idea, aside from suspicion, which was not something he planned on voicing in present company. 

"Why not Specs? It'll be fun" Noctis said with a crooked smile of his own, and Ignis felt his mouth press into a thin line at the nickname. 

_Specs?_

"Alright," he said, resolving to get this over and done with as quickly as possible so that he could continue his investigation.

With a practiced ease that only came with time and repetition, Ignis set up the Voight-Kampff testing apparatus as Noctis took a seat opposite him at the end of the long table. Carbuncle perched himself at the top of the chair. The VK machine was built to detect involuntary eye muscle and and capillary reactions to a given set of test questions, written with the intention of provoking an emotional response. An emotional response that would be lacking in Replicants. Ignis made the necessary adjustments until Noctis's eye was clearly visible to him on a small monitor, the iris a deep blue, and his pupil moderately wide in the dark room. He began the test. 

"You're given a calf skin wallet for your birthday," Ignis said, and Noctis's response was quick.

"I wouldn't accept it."

"You have a little boy, and he shows you his butterfly collection.... and the killing jar." Ignis let his eyes bounce between the information given to him from both the gauges on the VK machine and Noctis's face, searching for emotional indicators- a blush, or dilated pupils. Carbuncle was staring at him, unblinking. 

"I take him to the doctor." 

"You're watching TV when suddenly you realize there's a wasp crawling on your arm-"

"I'd _kill_ it,"  Noctis scrunched his face in disgust. 

Time passed. Ignis asked question after question. A realization was dawning on him, albeit slowly. He was not one to do make assumptions with a job half-finished, and he would never come to a conclusion without being absolutely certain that it was correct. He believed he had the conclusive results to the Voight-Kampff test. He continued asking questions anyway. He was nothing, if not thorough. 

"You're reading a novel, written in the old days before the war.....

"You rent a mountain cabin, in an area still verdant....

"In a magazine, you come across a full page picture of a nude man...."

Finally, Ignis sat back in his chair, satisfied that he had come to the correct conclusion. Dr. Caelum, who had been standing back in the corner of the room as the test had been conducted, finally stepped forward. Ignis nodded at him, and the Doctor turned to address the young boy sitting at the table. 

"Noctis, give us the room, would you?"

"But Dad-" he started to protest.

" _Noct_." 

Noctis huffed at that, his surly disposition back in place as he slumped out of the room, dejected. Carbuncle followed. Ignis ran a hand over his mouth, tense. Noctis's final word hanging in the air even as he left the room.

 _Dad_.

A sick feeling was settling in his stomach. This, _this_ was why he had quit the business. Things got complicated. What exactly had Cor sent him here to find out? Dr. Caelum turned to him, his expression unchanged as if the rug hadn't just suddenly been pulled out from under Ignis. 

"He's a Replicant," Ignis said, the words spoken out loud held a finality to them. It was no longer a hypothesis, it was truth.

"Very good," he said. "How many questions does it usually take?"

"I don't see how this is-"

" _How many_."

Ignis bit back his retort. "Twenty. Maybe thirty."

"You asked Noctis almost a hundred."

" _That's because it doesn't know_."

An accusation hung in the air, unspoken. 

 _Dad_.

Ignis was treading dangerous territory, but he couldn't stop himself. "How can it _not know what it is?_ "

Dr. Caelum's face tightened almost imperceptibly, and that smile, the knowing spark in his eyes was gone. "Noctis is an experiment," he said. "The Replicants they.... They're emotionally inexperienced. It leads them to strange behavior. Obsessions. They're unpredictable at best, destructive and nihilistic at worst. We had the idea to give them a sort of buffer for their emotions, allow them to acclimate better. To help control them. Of course." In that moment Dr. Caelum looked every bit the old man he was, and Ignis felt his revulsion at the whole situation subsiding, if only a marginal amount. One look at the Doctor told him that this man understood perfectly the gravity of the situation, and what he had done was not something done lightly.

"You gave him memories," Ignis said quietly.

"Yes," Dr. Caelum said. " _I_ gave him memories." 

  

 

"So," Gladio asked when Ignis made it back to the spinner, "you learn anything from the skin job?"

"I learned that we're all better off without pretending to be Gods."

 _Skin job_. Ignis noticed the bit of tasteless vocabulary that Gladio had picked up, probably from Cor Leonis. 

He thought of Cor then, and how far apart the two of them had grown. There had been a time when he looked up to Cor, seeing him as some sort of hero. But that was back when Ignis had first joined the police force, before he'd become a Blade Runner. And hero worship only worked from a distance. Cor had seen potential in Ignis, and taken him under his wing, in his own harsh way. He taught Ignis how to fight, how to glean important information out of evidence, and eventually how to spot and kill a Replicant. They had become close over the years, but the fact that Ignis was his protege hadn't stopped them from arguing on more than one occasion, something that had increased in frequency as time went on. 

Ignis had never known his father, not really, and he was too old now to stop denying that perhaps during his early years on the force, Cor had filled that role for him, at least in some ways. Had Cor known what he was throwing Ignis in to by sending him to the Citadel? Was it intentional? What was he trying to prove? Replicants with memories that were on the verge of fooling a Voight-Kampff test, Replicants with wild emotions and singular obsessions. The game was changing, shifting. Again Ignis thought of his decision to quit, one that he was positive, now more than ever, was the correct decision. The nature of Blade Running made things personal, at least it had for him. Lines started to blur, and maybe things that you once thought off limits, unforgivable, suddenly became acceptable. He wasn't like Cor, he couldn't shut himself off and get the killing done, not when they were dealing with Replicants like _this_. 

To say that Cor had been the reason he quit would be an unfair. To say that Cor had nothing to do with it would be untrue.  

"Where we headed next?" Gladio asked, ignoring Ignis's cryptic remark as they got back into the spinner, choosing to assume that the MT had been a dead end. 

"1187 Hunter Vasser. Ravus may have given a fake address, but we won't know unless we look. With any luck we'll find a lead" As Ignis blinked in the sunlight he realized he'd been up for over 24 hours, although after his interaction with Caelum, sleep was the last thing on his mind. It would be another difficult day, and it had only just begun. He caught Gladio's eye, and tried not to let the exhaustion show on his face, "Coffee first." 

 

 

 

Ardyn, it turned out, didn't make hollow promises. And Prompto would have done well do heed his warning that he would come calling when Prompto was needed. 

Placated by a few days without incident and his own rationalization, Prompto had gotten comfortable. And careless. It wasn't that Ardyn wasn't still hovering in the back of his mind, because he was, but rather his ever vigilant assessment of every street and every face had gotten sloppy. He'd stopped paying such close attention. Perhaps part of it had to do with the fatigue he was experiencing. Replicants were not people, but they had been made to imitate them. Even with their exceptional durability, they still had to eat, they still had to sleep. Prompto hadn't done much of either. 

He was walking. His head was down, thumbs clicking through the library of photos on his camera. He was being _stupid_ , although later he would think that none of that made a difference anyway.

Someone ran in to him- no, _he_ ran in to _them_. Prompto all but yelped at the collision, used to the ebb and flow of people comfortable brushing past each other in cramped spaces, and an apology was on his lips before he registered the situation. A broad chest was square in his face. Someone with white-blond hair and eyes colder than ice. 

 _Well, fuck_. The understatement of the century. 

"Been enjoying yourself?" Ravus asked, and then he was being dragged by the arm into an alley behind a dumpster. Prompto's mind had time to run roughly a million and one horrific scenarios through his head  
( _he's here to kill me, he's going to smash my head on one of these brick walls and then throw me in to that dumpster- no wait, he'd cut up the body first so it was easier to hide so he won't get caught and then he'll_ )  
before a figured hidden in the shadows moved to reveal himself. Ardyn. 

Well. This was so much worse. 

"Prompto!" Ardyn said with the smile of a snake, his arms wide greeting him like they were old friends. "It is so _good_ to see you again. We've got a little errand to run, thought you might want to tag along."

Prompto couldn't think of anything else he wanted to do less than tag along for whatever they had planned, but he knew that wasn't exactly the point of all this. Ardyn was here to flex his control. Prompto cursed himself for being so stupid. He was supposed to be finding a way to sneak out of the city, not running around taking photos and...   
It occurred then to Prompto that Ardyn had planned for this. He knew he didn't have to worry about Prompto slipping away because he knew he would get overstimulated and wrapped up in the excitement of Insomnia, that he'd be so absorbed in new emotions, new experiences, that he wouldn't regain his senses in time to get out before they found him again.

The problem with Ardyn was that the engineers had made him too smart for is own good. It was infuriating. It was terrifying. Particularly so when you were trapped as a pawn in whatever sadistic master plan he had in his head. 

Ardyn cast a final smile in his direction before he began to walk and, after a shove from Ravus, Prompto followed behind.

They were near the industrial section of the city, and that's where Ardyn led them at a leisurely pace. They hadn't gone far when Ardyn came to a stop in front of a metal door hidden at the descent of a few concrete steps. The type of thing that was easy to miss if you didn't already know it was there, especially in this particular section of the city, filled with smoke from the workshops and warehouses that lined cramped streets.

"Prompto, stay by the door. You're quick on your feet and quicker with a gun. If she runs, shoot her."

Whatever Prompto had thought they might be doing, this was going to be even worse. Ardyn opened the door and Ravus pushed Prompto in after him. 

 

Cindy Aurum was humming to herself.

Her workshop was small but it afforded her a relative amount of peace and quiet which let her concentrate. She took her work seriously, despite the endless mockery that happened behind her back. She knew most of the grunts that worked for Caelum were just there for a paycheck, but she took a particular pride in her work, and strived for excellent craftsmanship. Maybe she wasn't building fake craniums capable of higher level brain function, but the world needed people that paid attention to the little details too. 

Cindy specialized in making eyes. Replicant eyes.

And maybe she spent a little _too_ much timegiving each one a special twist of color, or an intricate pattern on the iris, and extra capillaries in the sclera, but what did it matter. She enjoyed it, and preferred to think of herself as an artist, a craftsman, instead of some brain dead warehouse grunt that couldn't appreciate the work that Caelum was giving them. She adjusted the cap sitting on her head and drew the puffy yellow jacket tighter, fighting back a shiver. 

Cindy all but screamed when a hand landed on her shoulder, forcefully snapping her out of her own thoughts as she whipped around to see who was there. _No one_ ever came down here. No one cared enough.

"Oh honey, you ain't allowed to be in here," she said, flashing a nervous smile at the man that had snuck up behind her. The look he was giving her was unsettling, to say the least, and he was very obviously not an employee. Over his shoulder she saw two more men by the door; one tall, one short, both blond. 

"I think you'll find you can make an exception," the man said, and involuntarily Cindy took a step back. "I have... questions. Mortality. Longevity."  He wasn't wearing a jacket, not the heavy standard issue ones that the employees had to wear to protect from the cold. None of them were. Her workshop was kept at subzero temperatures to keep the biological materials she worked with from deteriorating. 

She looked at him closer this time. The color of his amber eyes at odds with his reddish, almost violet colored hair.

#FF3800 with a touch of #CD7F32 and #7B3F00 around the rims of the iris. She knew those eyes.

"I don't think I can help you," she whispered. Her back was shoved flush against her workbench now, heart racing. She didn't have anywhere else to move when the man stepped closer. 

Ardyn said, "I think you can."

"I just make eyes, I.... I-I don't.... Dr. Caelum. He's the one with answers. He can help y'all with..." She had said something wrong, could see it in the expression of the man's face, in his _eyes_. He would not hesitate to hurt her, this she knew.

"Not exactly an easy man to meet." 

"There's... someone.... She can take you there. The Doctor, he... has a soft spot for her."

"A name dear, I need a _name_."

"Luna," she said, voice shaking, "Luna Freya." 

"Good," he said, and smiled at her. "Our little secret, alright?" he said, and trailed a finger down the side of her face, right before violently throwing a vat of finished eyes sitting in dry ice off the counter and in her direction. 

Cindy _did_ scream that time, and took off like a shot towards the door, her boots crushing the eyes that now littered the floor with a sickening _squelch_  and when she felt one _pop_ under her foot, for once her mind wasn't on all that work that had just been wasted, she was focused on one thing and one thing only- _get out._

She collided with the door before she got it open, all but sobbing by that point, and took off running. 

Prompto stood at the side of the door and let her. He was frozen in place, the gun shoved in the back of his pants was the last thing on his mind. 

Ardyn was laughing. "Oh Prompto, what _are_ we going to do with you." His hands clamped on to Prompto's shoulders like a vice, painfully tight. He knew there wold be payback for this. Ardyn didn't take well to being disobeyed. "Still too soft aren't you. Well, no matter. We have what we need." 

He thought of Ardyn's orders ( _if she runs, shoot her_ ), the forced provocation. A test.

"And what if she _talks_ ," Ravus asked, his displeasure obvious, but Ardyn, as always, remained calm.

"She won't. She'll call the police, but she won't tell the name," then, tilting his head, "if she does, Prompto can deal with it." 

Prompto felt a chill down his spine at that, but Ardyn, thankfully, removed his hands from him, and Prompto felt like he could breath again.

"Well, seems we have another visit to make. Time to find out more," Ardyn said, and his eyes wandered over to Prompto. "We'll find you again soon. Clean yourself up, in the mean time. You look horrendous." 

Ravus gave him a look, scrunching his nose as he scrutinized Prompto, "Have you even _showered_?" 

Had Prompto been capable of blushing, he would have. Personal hygiene was not currently very high on his list of priorities and he'd been wandering the city from corner to corner. In the rain. Ravus looked at him with bald irritation before reaching inside of his coat and shoving a keycard in his direction. "Just... go to the hotel and clean yourself up. You're going to draw attention to us, wandering around like that."

Prompto took the keycard without meeting his eye, and Ardyn and Ravus both brushed out of the room without a backward glance. Cindy would be calling for help by now, he needed to move. The hotel's insignia and address were printed on the card, and Prompto took note:

1187 Hunter Vasser.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I OWE REGIS AND NOCT A FORMAL APOLOGY FOR THIS.  
> In my spare time I enjoy making myself sad by thinking about how if Regis never had a kid but could make Replicants, he'd still choose to make noct his son. haha. ha. and then made carbuncle to watch over him bc the world is an unfriendly place for replicants. hahaaahhhHHHHHHh
> 
> so since I swapped the roles around a little bit, it's taking prom/iggy approximately 6thousand years to actually interact, i know i know. thanks for sticking with me on this. I felt like for the story i wanted to tell, having prompto be one of the runaway replicants (instead of giving him the role of rachael) would add a lot more drama/hopefully more emotional payoff when they finally come together, so with any luck it'll be worth the wait. 
> 
> luna and ravus are not related in this fic (for. obvious reasons) hence lunafreya nox fleuret -- now luna freya
> 
>  
> 
> Once again some dialogue and VK test questions have been taken (mostly) word for word from Blade Runner and a few from Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep thrown in for good measure.


	3. Chapter 3

The hotel at 1187 Hunter Vassler was situated at the edge of the red light district, and was thus sufficiently seedy and deplorable. 

The proprietor was a twitchy man named Takka who had been deliberately unhelpful and difficult, until Gladio, exasperated, had reached over the counter to yank him closer by the collar of his shirt and wave his Blade Runner badge in front of Takka's face. Had Ignis not been so eager to get on with things he might have had something to say about it. Unfortunately for Takka, he didn't. 

"Just so ya'll know, I don't want any trouble. I ain't tryna cover for Replicants," Takka told them (yet again) while leading them up to Ravus's room, master key in hand. His initial reluctance to give up the room number had been replaced by an overeagerness to help. The hotel itself, in direct contradiction to the blinding colors and lights that flooded the rest of the district, was decidedly plain. The walls had once been painted white, but time and filth had discolored them into a dingy grey and covered them in cracks, the floor creaked and most of the crown molding was missing. The hallway smelled faintly of urine. It was about what you would expect from a place that charged 80 gil a night and gave patrons the option to rent rooms by the hour. 

Once they reached the door, Takka was the one to knock and ask if anyone was there, in the hopes that if Ravus _was_ in, he wouldn't be spooked. After a minute with no answer, he opened the door and they let themselves in. 

"I didn't do anything wrong lettin' him rent the room," Takka's nervous chatter continued from the hallway as they did a quick sweep of the room to ensure no one was in hiding. "Ya know, I can't just start askin' people if they're Replicants when they're putting down money, 's bad for business."

"Uh-huh," Gladio said before closing the door on Takka, blocking him out of the room. Ignis raised an eyebrow at that, but Gladio only shrugged. "Can't concentrate with him hovering around rambling," he said gruffly. Takka mumbled something about waiting for them downstairs from the other side of the door, perhaps sounding a bit relieved. They got to work. 

Starting at opposite ends of the vacant room, Ignis and Gladio began their search.  

The space was infuriatingly devoid of any personality. It had the look of something lived in, but gave no clues as to who that person was. 

Gladio had drawn back the curtains from the tiny window, washing the room with the flashing neons from outside. As he eyed the bedding, Ignis heard him mutter something about how the place needed to be condemned _,_ before he continued to sweep the room. The tiny kitchenette looked as though it had hardly been touched, with the exception of a moldy takeout container and a half empty bottle of ketchup in the mini fridge. The dressers were all but empty, aside from a few miscellaneous articles of clothing that could have belonged to anyone. On top of one of the bedside tables were ticket stubs from the subway, round trip rides from the industrial district to the red light district. It was something. The bed was lived in, covers thrown back and the indent of a head still in the pillow, though that was hardly incriminating. The bathroom was small and disgusting. There was mold in the grout between the small while tiles, and rings around the tub. A cockroach crawled out of the drain. 

They checked and rechecked the room, doubling over each others work and still found nothing.

"Damn it," Ignis muttered without much inflection when it was clear they were coming up empty handed. He was frustrated and reaching the end of his rope, maybe had been for a while.

"Well, what now?" Gladio asked, arms crossed over his broad chest, agitated as well.

"Those ticket stubs have time stamps and stations on them, we can run it against the security video feed, see if we come up with something," he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "look in to the industrial district as well, put out feelers, see if anyone's seen anything. Caelum does a lot of work there."

"That's pretty fucking insubstantial."

"I'm aware of that." They were both in need of a break, starting to take their frustration out on each other. Ignis sighed again and started heading for the door. There wasn't much else they could do here. "We can call Cor, have him set up a stakeout team here as well, keep an eye on the building, see if Ravus makes his way back." They had been loitering in the hotel long enough to watch the last light of the day die out. The area would soon be swarming with the nightly rush of people and they were better off getting out of the district sooner rather than later. 

"Better catch some shut eye in the mean time," Gladio said and Ignis glanced over his shoulder at him as he reached for the door handle. 

"Agreed," he said, and turned back around just in time to nearly collide with someone standing right outside the room.

Blond hair. He was shorter than Ignis, mouth open, a keycard in his outstretched had that he'd been about to unlock the door with. He was looking about as surprised as Ignis felt. 

Then he was _gone_.

Prompto was off sprinting down the hallway and Ignis was moments behind him, feet leading the way before his mind had caught up. His shoes skidded on the floor as he rounded the corner leading to the stairs, Prompto having bypassed the elevator not willing to run the risk of getting caught outside the doors. He thought he heard Gladio yelling something behind him as the three of them began the descent, and Ignis drew his gun. 

He couldn't get a clear shot, the space was too cramped and every time he caught a flash of Prompto he was gone again, down another flight of stairs. On the second floor landing there was an open window; someone making an attempt to get rid of the acrid stench in the air. Prompto, with unsurprising agility for a Replicant, sprung through it, his knees tucked tight to his chest. Ignis followed, falling hard on the ground below, and was up on his feet again before he had time to register any pain. A crash, thud, and the cursing that followed told him Gladio was right behind. He had a clear view of Prompto now, and he took aim, barely slowing his pace. He was fast, but Prompto was a Replicant and had enough stamina to wear Ignis out if he could keep up the chase. Ignis had to end it quick, before Prompto slipped away.

He shot and missed- barely. The bullet wedged into the brick wall where Prompto's head had been not moments before as he disappeared around the corner.

The side street they'd been running down opened up in to the main drag of the red light district, packet with people as the nightly rush began. The heavy bass of music reverberated through the area, girls in lingerie were dancing in the street and lights flashed at intervals from pink to blue to red. It was too crowded. Not good.  

His eyes scanned the mass of people and _there_ \- a mess of blond hair frantically darting in to any empty space he could find between the surge of bodies. Ignis followed, gun still drawn.

There were far too many people to risk taking a shot at this range, all it would take was someone stepping in to the line of fire at the last second, or an accidental bump into Ignis as he pulled the trigger. Retiring a human was a risk he _would not_ take, and he could only hope that Gladio, lost in the crowd somewhere behind him, felt the same. He had to get closer. Easier said than done. 

He was swerving left, then right. A girl ran in to him and laughed in his ear, an add was blaring for Hammerhead Tequila and he shoved a shirtless man out of the way, heard himself yelling, "Move! Move!" all the while keeping his eyes on Prompto, bobbing through the traffic, throwing glances over his shoulder as he went. Two women in sheer pink dresses and purple moogle wings tumbled out of a bar and into Ignis's way, tangling him between themselves and someone spilled their drink down the front of his shirt as he tried to get through, to get _free_. He saw Gladio rushing up from beside him. There was the sound of shattering glass and he thought he heard someone scream, and the crowd parted like an ocean. He saw the opening; so did Prompto.

There was a gun in Prompto's hands as he turned, leaned back on one knee to steady his aim, lining up his shot through the break in the crowd. 

A surge of adrenaline rushed through him and time slowed, throwing the scene in stark relief. Ignis saw everything. 

He saw the way Prompto closed one eye and how his tongue darted out of the corner of his mouth as he took aim, and he saw the jet black circle of the barrel of his gun. He saw that it was aimed at Gladio's head, a killing shot, and saw Gladio continue to rush forward, either unaware of the danger or too stubborn to acknowledge it and take cover.   
_No_.  
No, he saw the barrel shift, he saw Prompto realigning his aim from what had been instinctual, saw the gun tilt downwards.

He took the shot.

Gladio fell.  
_No_.  
The sound of the gunshot blocked out everything else and left his ears ringing. Ignis broke free of the moogle girls, stumbling before he caught himself and starting chasing after Prompto again. The Replicant was sprinting as fast as his legs would let him, but stopping to fire his gun had closed the distance between them and now Ignis was hot on his heels, agonizingly close. They were reaching the end of the main drag and the crowds were thinning, the next intersection was in sight. Prompto was fast, Ignis was faster. He tackled him.

Ignis's gun went skidding across the ground and Prompto's was nowhere to be found. He kept a pair of daggers in a harness at his waist but Prompto was squirming violently beneath him and he couldn't do anything but try to keep him pinned. Prompto was yelling something. He tried to block it out.

"Stop! Stop it wasn't me!"

Prompto had gotten turned around, was facing him now, trying to fight him off with frantic blows that Ignis deflected. There were a million ways to kill a Replicant without a weapon. They were much the same as killing any other man. 

"I didn't do anything! It wasn't me, _I didn't kill anyone!_ "  
_No_.  
He saw the shot to Gladio, but he had also seen that last minute shift in aim. He didn't know the damage. And Aranea? But that had been Ravus.  
_No_.  
He had to concentrate. 

Prompto was beneath him, staring up at him with desperation, blue eyes wide and frantic. Filled with fear.

He was terrified. 

Ignis felt his grip on Prompto slacken, and in a last ditch burst of energy Prompto fought his way out, writhing out from under his grasp and he took off running again, straight in to the traffic of the crosswalk. Ignis snatched up his fallen gun and lined up a perfect shot that he didn't take.

Prompto looked back over his shoulder again, never slowing his pace and Ignis fired, high and wide, the bullet landing nowhere near it's target. 

And then Prompto was gone. 

 

 

 

The Captain's spinner arrived with a flourish of exhaust as it started to rain. Again. A line of MT Assassins were positioned along the police line to deter loitering and curious eyes, and an armored mech stood on patrol. It was dramatic even by Cor's standards.

Ignis was watching as Gladio continued to belligerently yell at the medics trying to load him in to an ambulance. The fact that he had more muscle mass on him than anyone in a 5 mile radius and kept violently swinging his fists at whoever came near him with a needle and threatening to arrest the next person that touched him was making things especially difficult. It had been nothing short of a miracle when they finally got him strapped to a gurney. Ignis had found him splayed out in the middle of the street, a crowd of people gathering around, most too inebriated to do much other than stand there are stare. Someone was yelling that they needed to call an ambulance. He thought he heard the sound of retching. There was blood pooled out around Gladio, much of everything between his left knee and ankle had been obliterated, and Ignis was mostly shocked that his foot was still attached to his body. Shards of bone were scattered on the street with the blood. Ignis grimaced and told him, "Best not to look." 

Gladio sat up on his elbows. His eyes were suspiciously bright, either with shock or adrenaline, and he waited until Ignis knelt down next to him to ask, "Did we get him?"

No. No they did not.  

The world had crashed back down around Ignis after Prompto was long gone and his own surge of adrenaline had worn off, and left him wondering what exactly had happened. 

Ignis ran through it in his head, over and over and over, even as he waited by Gladio's side after dialing an ambulance, even as the nearby police squadrons starting showing up, blocking off the street to pedestrians and deploying MTs. Then the Blade Runner units. And then finally, Cor Leonis. 

By that time Ignis was deflated, drenched, and too busy being confused and angry with himself to do much beyond feel irritated by whole fiasco. What was the point of it all. There was no body, and only a small amount of collateral damage to the area. If anything the police units swarming in were creating more of a mess in place that didn't even warrant an investigation. There was nothing to gain from sweeping the area, aside from disrupting business for the night and irritating the local bar and club owners. Prompto was long gone, and had left nothing behind, just like there had been nothing here of value before he came. And though he'd been expecting it ever since the spinner arrived, when an officer came up to him to say that Cor had requested a word with him, Ignis felt his mood darken even more.

Cor certainly waisted no time on pleasantries. 

"What the fuck happened?" 

"It got away."

"No, Ignis, what the fuck happened with _you_."

And there it was. Cor had his arm in a death grip and was leading him out of the center of the commotion, off to the side where most of the spinners were parked so as not to be overheard. 

"You _had_ him, you had him and now he's on the run again? I called you in because this shit doesn't happen when you're on a case. I've never seen you up against a skin job that didn't wind up retired."

"And here I thought it was because you missed me."

It was the constant push and pull between them. Ignis pushed himself hard, Cor pushed harder. Ignis had been the best. It wasn't arrogance that made him think it, it was fact. He was thorough, precise, and he never made mistakes, not when it came to Replicants. He was too careful to make mistakes. His life was the job. And he had never had an encounter with a Replicant in which the Replicant didn't wind up dead.

And then he had quit. 

"You might want to focus on what you're doing, since it seems you're a little distracted. Next time you come across one of these MTs someone's going to end up dead, and if you keep this shit up it will be you."

Ignis opened his mouth to say something back but he was just so _tired_. Tired and drained and it felt like he had the fight kicked out of him.

Blond hair flickered at the corners of his vision, and when he closed his eyes he saw freckles.

"Anything else you'd like to tell me," Ignis said and his voice came out flat. He saw Cor's jaw tighten, and there was the sudden distinct impression that Cor was holding something back.

"Just... go home," Cor told him, unrelenting, scowl as prominent as ever. "Get out of here and get some rest. You'd do well to make sure that head of yours is screwed on straight."

Ignis went to the hospital instead. 

 

Gladio was still confined to a bed, despite no small amount of protesting on his part. Ignis was happy to see that he at the very least was as lively as ever, despite the injury. The burley man had grown on him in the short time they'd been together, though Ignis would never admit to it. 

Both the tibia and fibula had been completely shattered by an expert shot. Even with medical technology as advanced as it was, it would still be a few days before he was back on his feet (which, according to Gladio was an "absolute pile of garula shit"). After another dose of pain medication that made his eyes glassy, and a check in with the nurse, Gladio seemed to have worn himself out complaining about his own condition and turned on Ignis instead, telling him to get the hell out of the hospital and go to sleep. Apparently Gladio thought he _also_ looked like a pile of garula shit.

 

Before leaving Ignis managed to slip in to Aranea's room as well. She was still unconscious, with a breathing tube taped in place over her mouth. The magnum that Ravus used had all but blown a hole straight through the center of her chest, the force of it sending her flying backwards nearly five feet, from what they could tell in the surveillance videos. The steady hum of the machines monitoring her condition felt obscenely loud in the dim room.

Ignis had paid a visit to the gift shop before coming to see her, and he stuck the pot of plastic flowers he had bought her on the small table by her bed. It was a tacky thing, all pink and yellow, and came with a small teddy bear holding a sign proclaiming, "Get Well Soon!" Aranea would have laughed at it, then called him an asshole for buying it. If she were awake. He found her hand laying on top of the bedspread and squeezed it in his own before leaving the room.

 

 

Ignis was beyond exhausted. With Gladio, and by extension, his spinner, out of commission, Ignis instead had to hail a cab to take him home from the hospital. After the day he had he wanted nothing more than to collapse into the solitude of his own apartment, and maybe have a stiff drink or four, before falling into the oblivion of dreamless sleep. 

The elevator prompted him for voice recognition and floor number, which he gave:  
"Scientia, 97"  
and then pulled his gun and spun around to the dark corner behind him so fast, it took a moment for him to fully register what he was seeing.

Blond hair. Blue eyes full of more shock than fear. Freckles.

It took every ounce of willpower that Ignis had in his possession to slowly, _slowly_ lower the gun, fighting every instinct he had cultivated over the years to do so. He never took his eyes off the Replicant's face. His hands were shaking. 

He heard the chime as the doors opened and they arrived at his floor, and Ignis flew out of the elevator like a man from a burning building. He fumbled at the lock on his door- not quick enough- and heard a rush of footsteps following behind him.

"Wait!" Prompto yelled and he _refused_ to turn around to look at him- _it_. The _Replicant_. "Wait! I need to talk to you!"

"There's nothing to talk about," he snapped, and finally the accursed door gave way and he all but fell inside before slamming it shut in Prompto's face. He exhaled a shaky breath and rested his forehead on the door, leaning heavily against it.

Not to be deterred Prompto's voice came muffled through the door that had been barricaded against him. "You didn't shoot me," his voice was much quieter now, suddenly self conscious, afraid of being overheard in the hallway. "You didn't shoot me while I was running and then you... when you grabbed me you didn't.... you let me get away." Prompto sounded as if he didn't quite believe it himself. Well neither did Ignis, but that didn't change what happened. There had been a lot going on; Gladio was down, people were scared and swarming everywhere, and Ignis was sleep deprived, overworked and hadn't exactly been ready for a chase when they ran in to each other outside Ravus's hotel room. It didn't have to mean anything. It also didn't mean they had to talk about it. 

"Go talk to someone else," Ignis said, and he hoped his tone of voice carried the finality of the conversation.

"I don't..." Prompto's voice was even quieter, shy, almost. Ignis had to strain to hear it. "I don't have anywhere else to go." 

He closed his eyes and took the time to curse each and every single one of the Six individually under his breath before he straightened and sighed. Perhaps the Replicant had left by now. He knew he hadn't.

With a stiff back and sour expression on his face Ignis opened the door and let Prompto in.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it realistic that in the future with flying cars and androids they'd still have ticket stubs?? probably not but ehhh. according to the blade runner future extreme shoulder pads would be considered stylish in 2019 so I feel like I've got a little leeway on this
> 
>  
> 
> (I also fixed some small grammatical errors, typos and awkward phrasing in the previous 2 chapters. nothing major, just throwing it out there)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta take the time thank everyone that's been commenting/giving kudos. I was suuuuper self conscious about posting fic after having been out of the game for so long and I thought for sure this was just gonna go die a slow quiet death in some forgotten corner of the Deep Web, but you have all been incredibly sweet and supportive in ways I did not expect but it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. was that sappy? i'm sorry that was sappy. thanks anyway

"No one knows I'm here, if that's what you're worried about." 

The response that earned him was sharp, "I'm not the one who should be worried."

The apartment they were in was small and austere, almost to a fault. Ignis Scientia's apartment. The Blade Runner. 

It had been a bit of a strange night. 

Prompto had spent the better portion of the last few hours asking himself what in the hell he thought was doing. It was a risk, to say the least, seeking out a man that had been firing a gun at his head only earlier that day, but something had shifted during their encounter. It wasn't something he could explain, but he had _felt_ it. Felt it in the way the Blade Runner had looked at him when he was pinned down, felt it in the way that the last gunshot thrown in his direction had been laughably off-target, like a warning shot to keep him running rather than something meant to kill. There had been a moment in the elevator when he thought he had been terribly wrong, misjudged everything. And then he was there. In the apartment. With his head still attached to his body, no less. 

The address had been easy to find once he had a name. That had taken a bit of digging, but even tracking down the name was quicker than expected. The Insomnia Public Library held backlogs of information, specifically local city history and news. _Public_ was a bit of a misnomer though, and Prompto had to hang around the front entrance looking as inconspicuous as possible until a teenager with messy blond hair had brushed passed him. Prompto rushed through the security checkpoint then, trying to ignore the argument that the teenager was having with a guard behind him ( _I have an ID pass to get in, I swear it was just here_ ). After that the task had been easier than he could have dared hope for, only armed with the knowledge that he was looking for a Blade Runner. Searching through old news articles he had hit the jackpot- an image of his pursuer from some time ago, smiling in a pixilated photograph and shaking the Police Captain's hand with the caption, _Ignis Scientia, youngest man yet to be named Blade Runner_. Prompto had stared hard at the photo for what was maybe a bit longer than necessary, but the picture was doing a funny thing to his chest, which he wrote off as nervousness. He ran a search on the name and found a retirement record long enough to make him cringe, a few other news blurbs of notable pursuits and closed cases, and finally an address. It was the kind of thing that would have normally been blacklisted from public records for Blade Runners, but Ignis, it seemed, had stopped that line of career up until recently, and the system had yet to catch up. 

The man in front of him now, face severe and shoulders tense, seemed like a far cry from that smiling picture and Prompto felt that strange tug in his chest again. 

Ignis had wasted no time in heading for the kitchen, snapping on a light and quickly producing a glass and a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a generous amount and immediately drained half, his back towards Prompto all the while. It wasn't until he had finished his drink and poured another, did he start to slowly turn and face Prompto, shedding his jacket and rolling up his shirtsleeves. If this was merely Ignis getting comfortable in his own home, then it also had the convenient side effect of showing off his gun in its holster that sat snug across his shoulders, just in case Prompto had forgotten where they stood. 

"How did you find me?" 

"That's top secret Replicant information," Prompto said, his nervousness made him want to ease the tension, but a joke was the wrong answer, apparently. Ignis made a face that said he didn't have the time for this, and made a move to get out from behind the kitchen counter that was currently between them. Prompto threw up his hands, palms out, in a gesture of surrender. "Public records! They had your name and picture in the news backlogs, I found your address from there." Ignis was still giving him a look of suspicion, no doubt wondering _how_ he had gotten access to the public records, but Prompto pressed on before he could question him further.

"I saw your list of retirements too," he said, and Ignis crossed his arms. "I uh... why did you let me go?" 

"I didn't."

"You _did_ ," then, quieter, "I _know_ you did." He hadn't known what to expect when coming here, but his hopes had been higher than having to navigate the virtual minefield he was currently in. One wrong move and he had a feeling he would find his ass back out on the street, and Prompto really, very much, did _not_ want to be back on the street. He may have shut himself in to an enclosed space with a dangerous man, but the apartment was warm and dry, it was clean and it smelled nice (unlike Prompto himself, as Ravus had felt the need to point out). And it was _quiet_. Insomnia ran nonstop at all hours of the day, not quite the sort of chaos that Gralea had been, but there was a familiar commotion to it all. This was different. The apartment was dark with exception of the kitchen light and the occasional flash of neon from outside, and the only noise was the steady patter of rain on the windows. Prompto liked different. 

Ignis took another long, deliberate sip of whiskey, then kept his eyes down as he swirled the rest of the contents in the bottom of the glass, then he spoke. "I'm not in the habit of making mistakes, particularly when it comes to decisions that have irreversible results."

"Mistakes," he repeated the word back, blinking.

"You said you didn't kill anyone."

Prompto thought on that for a moment, then, cautiously, "Still, Replicants are illegal in the city. It's your job to retire me anyway."

"Well if you'd rather I'd shot you, that's a problem we can fix," Ignis said, irritation back in full force. 

"No! No, I didn't mean it like that, I just..." Prompto was fidgeting, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. "You're a hard guy to figure out, you know that?" he said, and gave a weak laugh. Ignis wasn't laughing, but he did finish the rest of his drink. And poured another. "Look. I'm not saying I'm not grateful, because I am. I just don't get it." And it was true, Prompto _didn't_ understand why Ignis had let him go, just like he wasn't sure why he had been let in to his apartment when it would have been just as easy to shoot him in the elevator. But on the flip side of things, Prompto also wasn't sure why he had tracked this man down either, why he hadn't just taken his chance to disappear, go back to finding a way out of the city before Ardyn came calling again. Why did it matter what the Blade Runner's reasons were for letting him go? 

"I've had... reservations. About my occupation. For a while now. You seem to have brought them to a head."

Silence settled over them, but the tension in the room was diffusing, albeit slowly. Perhaps spurred on by some of Ignis's honesty, Prompto began to speak. 

"I was brought here. By Ardyn. I didn't realize they were coming back to Insomnia when I jumped on that airship I just..." he sighed. "I saw my chance to get out of Gralea and I took it. Anything was better than staying there." Ignis kept his eyes on Prompto, steady, not giving anything away. "I wasn't lying, you know. When I said I didn't kill anyone I meant it. Not in Gralea, not in Insomnia."

Ignis turned from him at that, putting his back towards Prompto once again as he leaned heavily on the kitchen counter. It was an effective way of hiding any emotion that might slip through the careful neutrality of his face. 

The light in the kitchen acted as a spotlight on Ignis, and he cut an intimidating figure. As he leaned on the counter, gripping the edge of it hard in his hands, the muscles of his back stood out from underneath his shirt, and the harness across his back was pulled taught. Blue and teal washed in from the window, painting one side of his body in electric light. A sudden urge to walk over to this stern man, this complete stranger, and wrap his arms around his waist and lean in to that ramrod straight back, lay his head there until the tension left his body suddenly threatened to overwhelm Prompto. Touching for the sake of being touched was something new to him when he came to Insomnia. He saw hand holding, arms strung across the shoulders of another, or wrapped around a waist, gestures of comfort and closeness that he'd never had in Gralea, but perhaps had started to crave. That image of Ignis smiling flashed in his head again, unbidden. Those feelings, _whatever_ they were, were quickly shoved back down in to submission, as he was fairly certain he was more likely to get a gun to the face and a quick retirement over anything else. Still he couldn't shake that pull towards the figure in the kitchen, and quietly Prompto pulled the camera out of his jacket, wanting to preserve something of this quiet moment. Nothing but himself and his supposed enemy in the dark apartment, neon lights and the patter of rain from outside. He raised his camera, lining up the shot.

Ignis, perhaps feeling the intensity of Prompto's eyes on him, snapped his head over his shoulder, eyes bright with something dangerous, and he wasted no time crossing the small space between them. He snatched at both of Prompto's hands, camera still between them, in a biting grip.

" _What_. Are. You. Doing."

Prompto tried to sputter a response, not entirely sure what he had done wrong, only that he had managed to upset Ignis yet again. Were pictures really so bad, had he been about to commit some unforgivable crime? He had gotten a few odd looks on the street, but nothing that would qualify as anger, not like what was currently being directed towards him.

Prompto was trying to show him the camera, if he could just let him see, make him understand. He was flicking through the images he had saved, trying show what he was doing. It had all been so new, so beautiful and bright compared to what his life had been before Insomnia. If he could just explain.

"I-I wasn't- I mean I didn't-" he stammered through apologies and explanations and he saw Ignis's green eyes locked on the screen of the camera, his hands still holding Prompto's in a death grip. "I'm _sorry_. I'm sorry I wasn't trying to-"

There was a picture of an old woman in the rain, scowling as her umbrella flipped inside out. Then a wash of color, shapes hardly indistinguishable but it didn't matter, as the blue, green, and red of the market signs painted an abstract picture of their own. There was the rat he'd seen in the alley, not entirely convinced it wasn't synthetic, but simultaneously unsure who the hell would take the time and money to make a rat only to send it out into the streets. There were twins, not older than 10, playing in a puddle of murky water in the street. Multiple shots looking up at the towering buildings and the sharp angles they cut against each other, mirrored windows reflecting the weak sunlight of the morning, then later the red light of the sunset. Prompto flipped through one after another, feeling his own words die on his tongue. He wasn't sure what to say, how to justify what he'd been doing. He felt the grip on his hands loosen, and looked up to see green eyes staring back at him instead of the camera, no less intense than they had been earlier, but the danger behind them was gone. He swallowed hard and heard a click in his throat. 

"Why," the word was flat, hardly posed as a question, and Prompto was having a hard time thinking with that face so close to his, staring at him so intently. He felt warm.

"I just didn't want to forget."

There was a subtle change in Ingis's face at that, and Prompto tried to pin down what it was.

Human expressions had been difficult. The other MTs, with metallic faces and glowing eyes had nothing to offer, and the few human guards in Gralea they actually had to deal with had been curt and flat faced, keeping themselves at a distance, like becoming a Replicant might be catching. It had been confusing at first, when coming to Insomnia, trying to pair up the emotions he was feeling with expressions on other faces. A smile could be a grimace, or it could be mocking instead of sincere, bitter instead of kind. There were so many ways to get it wrong, even with someone who was effectively emotive. But the man he had come to see had been keeping himself closed off at every turn, not allowing whatever was going on in his head show on his face. It was frustrating, unbearably so, when Prompto just wanted to grab him, look in to his eyes and _know what he was feeling_. Prompto realized he had been leaning in, closer. He stopped himself, felt his eyes drop off the face in front of him and back to his camera. 

Ignis cleared his throat. 

"It's fine, I shouldn't have..." he said, cleared his throat again, "it's fine." He backed away all at once, retreating the few steps back into the kitchen, and Prompto could acutely feel every inch of the skin on his hands that had been covered by the other man's. How they now felt cold. He felt sheepish about the whole thing, and maybe half tempted to try and take another photo to lure Ignis back towards him again. 

"Listen, why don't you go and get cleaned up. I'll make you something to eat in the meantime," Ignis had taken off his glasses and was rubbing at his face, and Prompto looked hard at him, brow furrowed. When he didn't make a move, Ignis returned the look, setting his glasses back on his face. "Look, you've been out on the streets for how ever many days now? Go. Take a shower," he gestured at the door behind Prompto, leading back in to the bedroom and bathroom, "I'll get you some food." 

Too tired, or too surprised to argue at this abrupt change, and afraid of provoking him again, Prompto gave Ignis one last hard look, before he did as he was told. 

 

 

 

Ignis was having a bit of a crisis.  

Some part of him kept whispering that word ( _Replicant_ ) over and over in the back of his mind, making him snap responses and clench his fists, fighting against the years of training ( _conditioning_ ) that told him this _thing_ in his apartment was the _enemy_ , and it needed to be _retired_. But Ignis could not bring himself to retire someone whose only crime had been existing in the wrong city, Replicant or not. Especially not one that took pictures of children playing in puddles, that let emotion play clearly on his face, making his eyes bright with something that looked suspiciously like hope.

When Ignis had seen that camera, Gods help him, he had been positive all of his suspicions had been confirmed. It was stupid, of course. Had the Replicant been sent here to spy on him, to get information to bring back to Ardyn for whatever unknown reason, he wouldn't have been so _obvious_ about it, snapping pictures without a second thought. Over exhaustion was to blame, surely, normally he wouldn't have been so reactionary. 

He couldn't change what was already done, but there were other things he _could_ do. Prompto was looking a little worse for ware, and Ignis didn't think too hard on how he had been managing the last few days, lest pity be added to the list of things he didn't want to deal with. He could let Prompto get cleaned up at least. And food, food was something he could do. Maybe he couldn't take back harsh words and snap judgements, but feeding others had always been the best way he knew to take care of other people. It was something he could offer even when there was very little else to be done, particularly in this situation.

Ignis was going through the motions, preparing ingredients as he tried not to think too hard about anything. He was making stew, and some part of his mind was whispering that this was _comfort_ food, and asking what exactly he thought he was doing. They were supposed to be enemies. It was something they both kept trying to dance around, the knee jerk reaction, at least on Ignis's part, to be hostile, volatile. It was always followed immediately by guilt, particularly after seeing how his words affected Prompto, who was only looking for understanding. Part of his brain was stuck in his old way of thinking, the Blade Runner part of him that refused to let go, and the another was in denial. Ignis wanted nothing more than to shut his mind off, and the whiskey was helping, making things fuzzy around the edges. 

Emotions were dangerous things to have, for Replicants and for Blade Runners.

Ignis heard a cough behind him as he was watching the stew simmer away. He hadn't even heard Prompto leave the bathroom, and he realized it was probably because he was good and drunk by now. He'd been lost in a hazy half-dream, thinking about a life outside of being a Blade Runner, life away from Insomnia. Nothing but idle fantasies. 

He gestured for Prompto to sit and served him a steaming bowl of food, before sitting down next to him, still nursing a glass of whiskey. Prompto was voracious, hardly pausing between spoonfuls and raving about how good it tasted. That was satisfying at least, to see someone enjoy his cooking with such enthusiasm. It had been some time since he'd had the chance to feed another, although Ignis was wondering how accurate Replicant tastebuds could be. There had been a time when he'd done research into the matter of Replicant anatomy- or rather _machinery_. It was back when he was training to be a Blade Runner, trying to prove himself to Cor and hungry for any relevant information he could get his hands on. It had seemed absurd to him at the time, to create something so beyond humanity while still imposing human limitations, like food and sleep. Though he supposed even a machine had to have a power source, and besides, what did Caelum alway say? More human than human. Best to follow the source material, perhaps. 

Prompto's hair was still wet, he noticed, and had soaked the collar of his shirt.  _Ignis's_ shirt, he realized. Prompto had apparently gone searching through his things, and Ignis was maybe a bit too unbothered by that fact. It hardly seemed fair to make Prompto stay in the same clothes he'd been living in for the past few days, and Ignis made a mental note to wash them for him. After Prompto was finished eating Ignis directed him towards the bedroom so he could get some sleep. Prompto attempted to argue, but Ignis had none of it and they were both too exhausted to keep at it for very long. He watched Prompto (the _Replicant_ ) curl up on one side of his bed and realized he was maybe a bit too unbothered by that as well. 

Ignis finally showered himself, letting the water run hot enough that it turned his skin a shade of bright pink. He felt like a man in a dream. The world was swimming in clouds of steam. That was ok. That meant he didn't have to think too hard, not anymore, not tonight. 

Whiskey made for a convenient excuse when he climbed in to bed next to Prompto and slept. 

 

 

 

 

Ardyn had found Luna Freya's address in the same unsettling way he seemed to find whatever information he was searching for. It was one of many uncomfortable things about him that made Ravus uneasy, rubbed him the wrong way. There was still no denying the fact that if not for Ardyn, he would still be stranded in Gralea, a slave, and he owed Ardyn a debt for that. He did not want to be the kind of man that went back on his word. But if Ravus's supposed steadfast loyalty to Ardyn was swaying, well, that was something best kept to himself. 

Luna lived in the Bradbury apartments in sector nine, a filthy part of town, half abandoned and mostly overrun by city residents that didn't have anywhere else to go. Of course Ardyn would leave the unsatisfactory tasks to Ravus, he was never one to get his own hands dirty. Whoever this Luna was, Ravus was sure she was bound to be as unpleasant as her neighborhood. 

He double checked the address with the one Ardyn had given him, and huffed out a breath before heading in to the heaps of uncollected garbage that had built up in the street near the entrance. The building was dark and towering and falling apart. Given the option Ravus would rather be anywhere else in the city. Or out of it. Far away from Ardyn and his madcap schemes of achieving grandeur, or whatever he was after. Information from Ardyn was given on a need to know basis, and according to Ardyn, there was very little that anyone else needed to know. And there was increasingly very little that Ravus needed to know. In fact it seemed that since coming to Insomnia, he had been privy to less and less of Ardyn's plan. Mildly irritated with a head full of suspicion, but refusing to abandon his part to play, Ravus situated himself among the garbage bags, nearly hiding himself completely. And then he waited. 

Some time passed before anything happened, but sure enough to Ardyn's word before the night was up, a dingy little vehicle was pulling up alongside the curb of the building. Keeping himself still as possible, Ravus watched the girl now rummaging through her bag for her keys, slowly walking to the door. Her head was down and he couldn't get a good look, but it had to be her. No one else was living in the decrepit building aside from squatters. Certainly no one that would bother using a key to get in. 

Ravus waited until she had wandered just next to him, and then he moved. 

Luna screamed. A high pitched shrill screech that she cut off by slapping a hand over her mouth. Ravus rushed to stand and stumbled (intentionally), in a way that felt so forced he cringed at himself for being so obvious, but Luna seemed not to notice, instantly rushing over to him.

"Gods, I'm so sorry, are you alright?" She was speaking quickly, bending over to try and get a look at him to see if he was hurt. Ravus kept his eyes down, staring at Luna's feet. She was wearing cream colored flats that had seen better days, scuffed and dirty from the filth of the city. He felt a tentative hand come to rest on his shoulder. "You gave me quite a scare."

Ravus tried to school his face in to something vulnerable and nonthreatening, but he had never been one for playing these types of roles, he couldn't imagine why Ardyn had chosen him for this task. Nevertheless, he had a job to do, and he looked up at her. 

Luna removed her hand from him with a jolt and near inaudible gasp as she took a step back. From his angle on the ground Ravus could see very little of her face, cast in shadow as she was backlit from the streetlights on the road, her white-blonde hair illuminated in a halo around her head. White-blonde hair like his. 

The genuine surprised and confusion at her sudden retreat must have shown on his face, and Luna was leaning back over him soon enough. She extended a hand, which Ravus took, getting back on his feet. "'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," he said. He could see her face clearly now, surprisingly young, blue eyes still wide, but her face was apologetic, if she did still seem a little shaken. Luna made a futile attempt at getting Ravus to rights, brushing stray pieces of trash from him, and straightening his jacket. Between the trash and the unrelenting rain of the evening, he couldn't imagine he looked much better than Prompto. 

"What were you doing down there anyway?" she asked, picking garbage out of his hair. 

Ravus dropped his gaze again, "Well I, um..." 

Luna's hands finally stopped their fidgeting over him. "Oh..." she said, assuming some tragic story for him as he had hoped she would. In this part of town it wasn't a stretch. An awkward silence hung over them, and Luna shifted the weight of her feet. 

"Hey," she said finally, "why don't you come upstairs with me. We can get you something to eat." 

Ravus did his best to look embarrassed, "Please I couldn't impose-"

"I'm _offering_ ," Luna said, a reassuring hand back on his arm, and he waited a moment before giving a hesitant nod. "Good," she said and smiled, "I'm Luna by the way."

"Ravus," he said, and smiled back, but as they stepped to the door and in to better lighting, he didn't miss the hard look she was giving him once again, her eyes narrowing, turning thoughtful. Luna caught him looking back at her, appearing curious himself and she gave a low laugh, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," she said, "It's just that you look so much like my brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ok but listen-  
> ignis looks good in suspenders THEREFORE he would look good in a shoulder holster. these are just the facts people. 
> 
> REALISTICALLY ignis would not have time to make his braised beef stew in the time it took prompto to take a shower (unless he was really living it up with that hot water) but this is my story goddamnit and I wanted to give my boy some good rainy day comfort food  
> (and it IS some good rainy day comfort food my dudes, I tried making it last week and it was the best decision, highly recommend) 
> 
> lastly, I finally caved and made myself a writing/fic tumblr, come stop by and say hi if you feel inclined, I'd love to hang out @[notthelasttime ](https://notthelasttime.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my thought process for how I am adapting this story from blade runner is as follows:  
> less philosophy, more pining.  
> 

Most of the roof of the Bradbury apartment had collapsed in, to the point where being inside the building didn't protect from the rain, and stagnant puddles had collected in the depressions of the uneven floor. The lights didn't work, but the archaic elevator somehow still did, creaking and groaning its way down to the ground floor before Luna pushed back the rusting iron grate with effort to let them in.

Ravus wasn't sure why she bothered to keep a key. 

"You _live_ here?" he asked, and was saved the embarrassment of how rude his question was by Luna's quick response. 

She actually laughed, "No housing shortage out here. I like having space to myself. And besides," she said with a smile, tilting her head and looking at him, "company is easy enough to find."

The elevator arriving at Luna's floor cut their conversation short as Luna was back to digging through her bag for keys, and when she finally produced them Ravus noted that they were the old fashioned kind, not the usual keycards that had become commonplace. The door they arrived at was a giant wooden monstrosity, decorated with intricate carved patterns and covered in peeling paint. It was all very passé in a world that didn't care much for the antique, as was evident by the state of the building.

"Pryna! Umbra!" Luna was calling out as she pushed the door open, and Ravus felt a moment of panic- she was supposed to live alone, wasn't she? But it was short lived, as Luna ushered him into the spacious apartment, all high ceilings and herringbone wood floors. Two dogs came running into the foyer, one white, one black and grey, and Luna dropped to her knees and threw her skinny arms wide, smiling as they both hurried towards her, tails wagging, and the black one started barking. "Miss me?" Luna asked, laughing as they licked at her face. It was... endearing. Ravus frowned. 

He quickly wiped the expression off of his face as Luna turned to address him. "That's Umbra, and this is Pryna," she said standing with the white dog cradled in her arms, "They're my friends, I made them. I'm a genetic designer." She leaned in closer to Ravus so he could meet Pryna, and either didn't notice or chose to politely ignore the fact that his first instinct was to draw back from her, and when he chanced a look at her face, Luna still had a soft smile playing at her lips. Hesitantly, he closed the distance between them again, and held his hand out to the dog in her arms. 

Pryna sniffed at him briefly before she began to lick his hand with enthusiasm, tickling his skin. Luna was laughing again, "I think she likes you." 

"You made these?" Ravus asked, perhaps with a touch of disbelief and Luna nodded, then looked down, slightly embarrassed.

"Well... Dr. Caelum helped." She bent over and let Pryna jump from her arms to join Umbra on the floor, two tails wagging, four eyes staring bright at their mistress as she shrugged out of her rain coat, revealing a pretty but plain off-white colored dress. The hem, where it had peeked out from under her jacket at the knees, was wet. "Here, let me take that," she said, gesturing for his coat, "you must be soaked." Luna was fussing over him again, thinking nothing of their close proximity and casual touches, as though they had known each other for a lifetime already. It was an inordinate amount of care to give to a complete stranger, and when she said she would get him something from the kitchen, he followed. 

For as much as the rest of the building was falling into utter wreckage, Luna's apartment was mostly well maintained (as well as the ancient building could be), if it was a bit cluttered. The apartment was built with a disregard to the shortage of space that the rest of the city was currently facing, with lofty rooms, large doorways, and big windows. It showed its age in the ways that the floor creaked and the wallpaper was peeling. Over time the wooden skeleton of the structure had warped, making everything feel slightly off balanced, a little bit crooked. The sturdy, out of date furniture was all covered in bits and pieces of machinery, tools, and little project that Luna seemed to be working on. Half-finished animals, toys, even segments of Replicants, from what he could tell. At some of the windows were what looked like failed attempts to grow real flowers, now dying a slow death from lack of true sunlight. It was the type of mess in which no one could make sense of the clutter, except for the person that had created it. The organized chaos of a busy mind and busier hands. 

"Does anyone else live in this building?" he asked, and Luna gave a vague enough answer.

"Sometimes people come and go." Homeless stragglers and squatters. People, like himself, that she had probably taken pity on and brought into her apartment, offering food and company. He didn't know why he wanted to chide her for the recklessness of allowing strangers in to her home, especially when her sweet and trusting nature had been exactly what he was preying on himself, what _Ardyn_ was preying on. This was, after all, Ardyn's idea, part of Ardyn's grand master plan. 

"And your brother?" Ravus asked, worried that this new unknown might show up at random and sense the danger, try to keep Ravus away from Luna and then he'd be forced to fight or flee, like he had at Caelum Corporation. 

"Oh, um," Luna struggled to keep her voice sounding normal, "he died. Some time ago, actually."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ravus said, and was surprised to find that he actually felt it.

"What about you?" Luna asked, quickly changing the subject as she began to rummage her way through the kitchen, another room that had not been spared the clutter of Luna's in-progress genetic creations. "Don't you have any family?"

"No," he said, blunt enough to be rude, but Luna took no offense.

"Friends, then?"

Ravus hesitated, but only for a moment. "I have some friends in the city. I'll let them know where I am tomorrow."

Luna nodded at that, keeping busy in the kitchen and Ravus's mind turned to Ardyn. He was hardly a friend. They had only made a deal. 

Pryna was busy tangling herself in Luna's legs, hoping for a treat, but Umbra came to Ravus, curious and perhaps slightly mistrusting. Ravus went down on one knee, holding out a hand for the synthetic dog who sniffed at it, but did not begin to shower him with kisses as Pryna had. The dog's dark eyes stayed on him and he bared his teeth, as if to say _I'm watching you._

Ravus wondered if Ardyn had known about Luna's brother.

Of course he did.

Where Ardyn was involved, nothing was an accident. 

 

  

 

 

Consciousness was coming to him, slow and difficult. It was uncommon for Ignis, someone whose eyes would snap open before his alarm had even begun to ring. He supposed he had the whiskey to thank for that, along with the dull throbbing of his head. His vision was still bleary with sleep and he could hardly keep his eyes open long enough to see the clock beside his bed, let alone make out what time it was. The thick curtains over the window blocked out both sunlight and the endless stream of neons and floodlights alike, for constant darkness and absence of time. It would be so easy to just drift back off to sleep when the pillow under his head was so _soft_ and he was so _warm_ -

Warm, too warm. The warmth of a body next to him.

Prompto, like a heat-seeking missile, had honed in on Ignis in the night, curling up tight against his back, fists clutched onto the soft fabric of his t-shirt, a cheek pressed in the space between his shoulder blades. 

There was a moment where Ignis forgot to breathe, and all at once he was awake.

Surprise, surely it was just surprise that someone else was in bed with him, and he did a careful job of making sure his breathing was steady and even again. Even without knowing the time Ignis knew his body needed more sleep, after the stress he had been under and the extended period of time without rest. He should stay in bed, some part of his mind argued. He needed to get up _now_ , another part of him said. Ignis moved. 

Prompto made a noise in his sleep and he stopped, although was it because he was worried about waking Prompto up or because....  
Because he'd realized he wasn't moving to get out of bed, but he had been starting to turn around like he was going to....  
Like he was going to turn and wrap his arms around the body next to him.

Prompto sighed and tugged himself back to Ignis, closing the small amount of space that had opened up between them.

There wasn't alcohol in his system to blame this time so Ignis told himself it was just instinct, his mind, sleep-addled and still overtaxed, gravitating towards the warmth, not the person in particular. It had been a while, since he'd been close to anyone like this. Probably too long, even if some indignant part of him was bitterly thinking, _not long enough_. There was some way to explain this away.

Then why was his heart beating so fast?

Ignis was running out of excuses. 

The phone that started buzzing away at his nightstand cut off his thoughts, and then he was out of bed, quick and quiet into the other room, shutting the bedroom door behind him so as not to wake Prompto. 

Cor's name lit up the screen. He was hardly the first person Ignis would choose to talk to in the moment, but Cor and all his difficulty presented a welcome distraction to _whatever_ had just happened.

"Scientia," He answered in a forced neutral tone of voice.

"Come by the station when you get a chance, I've got a witness here for you to interview," Cor wasted no time on getting to the point, as was his way. 

"Cor I was _there_ , I don't believe we need to waste time talking to witnesses."

"Not from the red light district," Cor said, "there was an incident in one of Caelum Corporation's manufacturing labs. One of the employees, Cindy Aurum, says she was threatened by our Replicants."

There was a moment of silence before Ignis replied.

" _When?_ "

"Yesterday."

"You didn't tell me."

"You looked like you could use a break."

Ignis wasn't sure if he was grateful or furious. Had he known about the run-in with Cindy, he would have surely rushed off to investigate, and, unfortunately, Cor was right. He had needed the rest. Knowing Cor had lied to him though put him in a barbed mood, even if he had been doing it for Ignis's own good. That was the problem with Cor, even when he had the right intentions, he always seemed to go about it the wrong way. At least now Ignis knew what he had been holding back the previous night. 

"I'll be over soon," Ignis said, running a hand through his hair and hanging up the phone before Cor could respond. 

When he went back into the bedroom, Prompto was still sound asleep, now with his hands fisted in the blanket and his face pressed deep into the pillow where Ignis's head had been minutes before. He went into the bathroom and tried not to think about it.

 

 

 

 

Cindy was still wearing the heavy bright yellow jacket from the lab, yet hand her arms crossed tight in front of her chest as if she was cold. 

It had been a long and tedious night for her, Ignis was sure, though after her initial statement she had been free to go. She chose to stay for additional questioning of her own volition, but Ignis had to wonder if that had more to do with Cindy's willingness to help, or with the fact that she didn't want to go home, be left alone. Smart money was on the later of the two options. It didn't take an investigation to see that Cindy was scared. 

As soon as something went wrong people liked to cry Replicant, for drama, maybe, or because of paranoia and overactive minds. It happened with an infuriating frequency, enough so that Ignis was hardly surprised that neither him nor Gladio had gotten word of the incident with Cindy. It wasn't until a regular beat cop had gotten a description of her intimidator at the scene and found it to be a match to Ardyn did Cor get involved, and the ticket stubs found at the hotel had cemented his suspicions into place. Cor was always good at keeping secrets. 

On the table in front of Cindy was a cup of watery station coffee, untouched. It had gone cold. Ignis offered to get her another cup, or maybe some water, trying to be as soft around the edges as his current mood would allow. He wanted to be gentle. He could see from the red rings around pretty green eyes that she had been crying. 

"I apologize for the repetition, but I'd like to go through the events of yesterday with you again. I'm leading the investigation on the Replicants in particular that threatened you." 

"Sure took your time gettin' here," she said back, but there was no real malice in her voice. More than anything she sounded tired.

"Yes I was... following up on another lead," he thought of Prompto, wrapped in blankets and curled up in his bed, then quickly shoved the image from his mind. Yes, a lead.

Some Blade Runner he had turned out to be. 

Cindy took a breath before she began, having repeated the story with enough frequency that her words had become memorized, she was just going through the motions. There was a good chance this would be an exercise in futility, trying to get new information out of her when she was so used to reciting the same story. She went through it again, beat by beat - she was working alone, someone grabbed her shoulder, the Replicant with violet hair had threatened her, had questions about mortality and she said she couldn't help, that he would have to go to Dr. Caelum himself, and that had upset him.

"Then I... well he threw something at me, and I ran," she licked her lips and Ignis didn't miss the way her eyes fluttered down to the table when up until that point they had been staring dead ahead, "I kept runnin' and called for help and that's it." 

"He just let you go?" Ignis asked, and from the flicker of fear on Cindy's face, he almost wished he hadn't.

"Guess he figured I had nothin' to give," she wasn't meeting his eyes again. 

Cindy was hiding something, that much was obvious. It must have been why Cor called him in, but if the Captain thought Ignis would be able to pry something out of her at this stage, when she had kept her mouth shut about it for this long, he may very well have misjudged. The unfortunate fact was Ignis was better at dealing with Replicants than people. 

He asked a few more questions, small details for clarification, nothing that would break the case but it felt necessary to give Cindy more time to speak. She thought hard to remember and answer as true as she could. She wanted to help, but fear was keeping her mouth shut. It might take time to loosen those lips and find out why Ardyn had let her go, and that was time they didn't have. Resigning that there was nothing else he could gain from Cindy, Ignis thanked her for her time and excused himself.

"You're gonna find him, right?" Cindy asked suddenly, stopping him from leaving the room. She was looking at him with a sudden intensity that had been absent from her expression throughout the interview. "That Replicant ain't right there's... something about him. Something _bad_. Replicants get hooked on somethin' and they don't let go, but this one's different He got hooked on somethin' big and he'll drag the others down with him, and he won't stop 'til the three of 'em are dead."

"Wait, _three_?" Ignis asked, unable to keep himself from interrupting her. He had been so focused on Ardyn, everyone had, he did't realize...

Cindy looked a little surprised, "I told that officer already, I told him the first time he asked me what happened. There were three of 'em. The one with the violet hair that did all the talkin', and two by the door. One short, one tall, both of 'em blond."

She was right, of course. The information had been there he just hadn't paid it any mind, he'd been so _distracted_. 

Ardyn, with two other Replicants. One of which was short and blond. Ignis fought to keep his jaw from clenching. 

 

 

Cor caught him before Ignis could leave the station, on the pretense of asking what he had found with Cindy. 

"She's hiding something, you already knew that," and Cor nodded at that. He was subdued compared with their last conversation. The slight change in mood made him seem almost apologetic. 

"Couldn't get it out of her?" Cor asked, but for once it wasn't an accusation. Why did the Captain have to choose right now, of all times, to try and make some sort of peace between them, when Ignis was fighting to keep his composure and feeling like he wanted to hit something. He had been lied to. It shouldn't have been surprising and he shouldn't have had to pretend that it didn't hurt. Replicants lied. Of course Prompto would deny it and yell and say that he'd had nothing to do with it when Ignis had him pinned to the ground. Of course he had been working with Ardyn. Of course. 

"What's your next move?" Cor asked and Ignis grounded himself.

"I think I have another lead." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen guys, when I said slow burn I meant it  
> (sorry if this part is a bit short. I had another prompto-centered bit at the end that I kept fighting with and kept fighting with. I cut it for now, it might wind up in the next part?? or I might just trash it entirely, who knows. I figured rather than stress about it I'd give it some more time and just post what I had) 
> 
>  
> 
> I put together some songs that I've been listening to to get me in the mood for writing this fic which can be found: [here](https://notthelasttime.tumblr.com/post/159192766780/songs-for-runaway-replicants)  
> EDIT: now I am also on spotify, you can find the (slightly modified) playlist [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/notthelasttime/playlist/1Lmlka2AjLzGdV0Lz11VOP)
> 
> lots of new wave, synth wave, and some ambient instrumentals. perfect for lovesick replicants and blade runners alike


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real quick, some life updates 
> 
> I got a new job!! ayyyy! might this finally be the thing to take me out of retail hell for good? god I hope so, but either way I will now have a regular schedule (well, mostly, my part time job aside), higher pay and i'm not gonna be on my feet all day/won't be further aggravating some health issues/will theoretically not be as exhausted all the time. 
> 
> so why am I telling you this?  
> my brain is a nasty little anxiety gremlin that hates change, and this whole thing can go one of two ways  
> 1) manic stress writing  
> 2) braindead  
> I want to reiterate that if it ends up being the later, there's about a negative chance of me abandoning this fic. updates might be slow but there's no way i'm going to NOT finish this when I have spent way too much time planning/thinking/writing and I know exactly where this thing is gonna go and how it's gonna get there. I am invested. 
> 
> writing fic again has finally gotten me out of the bout of creative constipation I was in, but because of that now I've also got about a million half baked ideas and unfinished drafts. I'm going to be attempting to finish some of those as well so if you see me posting things that are Not This, don't worry, i will see this through, I just don't want it to get stale 
> 
> I think that's all. I'll shut the fuck up now.

Ravus was coming to find that time with Luna was time that was well spent. 

Luna thought expansively and felt deeply in a way that was foreign to Ravus. He had not been immune to the development of his own feelings as some of the other MTs were. It had allowed him to develop anger, mistrust. It led him to thoughts of revenge, even, for those that had sentenced him to a life of isolation in a daemon infested war zone all because he was seen as nothing more than an experiment gone wrong, a placeholder for a human being. It was most likely the reason Ardyn had chosen him to be a part of his little coup. Ravus had felt, true enough, but neither had he becoming the bubbling mass of uncontrolled emotion that was Prompto. He made it a point to keep himself logical, not emotional.

Luna seemed to be everywhere at once. She had welcomed Ravus into her home, let him in without a second thought, then continued on her way as though nothing had changed. For her, maybe it hadn't. But Ravus was on unsteady ground, new territory.

He liked to watch her work.

It was in the distracted way she twisted her hair when she was thinking, the way she tilted her head and spoke to herself, quiet enough that no one else could make out the words. It was how she seemed to block everything else out when she turned to the long table in what was once a dining room, now Luna's main workspace, alternating between frantic productivity and long periods of sitting and staring, debating, picking up a tool and setting it back down. He had caught glimpses of her dozing off sitting up on more than one occasion. Her sleep schedule was horrific and seemed to consist of nothing more than accidental cat naps between bouts of activity.

Her makeshift desk was cluttered with gears and tools and biological materials all at her disposal, and a contraption featuring a number of lights and magnifiers to illuminate her work. In front of Luna's seat at the head of the table resided her current project - a face. The face of a woman with her eyes closed and jet black hair sprawled out in waves around her. Ravus wondered if this was the MT 7 in progress, perhaps now with failsafes to block emotion and prevent rebellion, an improved soldier that did nothing but obey. Was this the thing that would make him obsolete.

Did Luna think _he_ was obsolete?

She called her project Gentiana.

Luna didn't pay him much mind. Her home was open to him, and Ravus was allowed the freedom to go where he pleased, do as he pleased, all the while Luna worked, occasionally flitting from one project to another, Pryna and Umbra following her every move with unwavering loyalty.

Time was passing in a funny way, it was easy to lose track of when it was.

It was easy to pretend he wasn't here for a reason.

But feigned ignorance could only take him so far, and Ardyn was not one to cross.

He waited. Waited until it was some time dark and late, and Luna was sleeping at her desk again, hoping he could complete his business and be back before she woke. As he grabbed his jacket and made for the door he felt eyes on him, and turned to see Umbra, standing there at the end of the hall, eyes glowing with the reflection of what little light there was in the apartment. Ravus slipped out the door.

It was different in District Nine, too quiet, too empty. Where the rest of Insomnia was all clutter and energy, this part of the city, filled with those that no one else wanted, remained shunned. The streets were filthy and most of the buildings weren't much better off than the Bradbury apartment. Ravus walked.

All he had to do was uphold his end of the deal, but things were starting to feel like he was spiraling, maybe falling a little out of control. As much as he tried to regain his focus on the task at hand and what was to come, put it in perspective with the long term scheme of things, his mind kept looping back around to one thing; Luna. 

Ravus walked for two blocks down the center of an empty street, noise of the hectic city far in the distance, until he came to a public videophone and carefully dialed the number that Ardyn had given him.

He picked up before the second ring.

Ardyn's face filled the screen effectively blocking out any indication of where he might currently be. He stared at Ravus, silent, waiting.

"She seems trusting enough, and is friendly with Dr. Caelum from what I can tell. I believe she will be... amiable.' 

"Good," Ardyn said, and Ravus tried in vain to read what was beneath the surface of his face. "Then expect a visit soon," and he made a move to cut off the call.

"Just-" Ravus forcefully shut his mouth, smashed it into a line that matched the rigid set of his brow, wondering why he had even opened his mouth to say it in the first place, but it was too late now. "Just don't hurt her."

Ardyn stared back unblinking, face placid, before he spoke with flat eyes and no inflection in his voice.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

 

 

 

 

When Prompto woke, he awoke alone.

There was a fleeting moment of panic when he first opened his eyes in the darkened room, seeing nothing and for a horrifying fraction of a second he was sure he was in Gralea. Then memories were on him. Insomnia doused in pouring rain. Blade Runners, a chase through the red light district.

Ignis.

With that closed off look on his face that kept his thoughts hidden, warm hands with long fingers covering his own as he clutched his camera and fumbled over explanations. Ignis, who acted like his mind was already half made up that he was going to shoot Prompto at his earliest convenience, until he was suddenly drunk and tumbling into bed next to the thing he had sworn to kill. 

And Prompto, half asleep and pressed along the straight line of his back seeking warmth, wanting for _something_ but not sure what.

An unknown feeling was shooting through him like an electric current, not uncomfortable, exactly, but there something that was akin to pressure on his chest, like maybe it was a little hard to breathe. Like when he had first seen that blurry picture of Ignis smiling but different. Not quite the same, only connected by a thread, thin and fragile. He realized his face had pulled into something grim and uncertain, with a deep crease in the center of his brow, and he made himself relax. It wasn't a bad feeling, not exactly, but he didn't know how to define it or what to call it and that made him uncomfortable. 

He wanted to know where Ignis was. 

There had been no such thing as personal property in Gralea, and it left Prompto at a bit of a loss for what was or was not acceptable now that he was in someone else's home.

He traced his fingers along door frames and counter tops and peeked in the closet and all the cabinets in the kitchen. All the different parts of the apartment were the same- clean, orderly, devoid of personality beyond the indication that the apartments' current resident was a bit of a neat freak. He thought about Ignis spending long days as a Blade Runner, the slow buildup of regret, and time in a tiny, quiet apartment, the near empty bottle of whiskey and another waiting in the cabinet a clue to how he spent his time. Nights spent alone in a city swarming with activity, and for the first time Prompto thought Insomnia and Gralea might have had something in common after all.

He sat at the tiny table in the kitchen. He looked out the window. Ignis seemed to be taking his time.

Prompto knew enough about what was supposed to be in a home to know that things were missing. There were no family photos on the walls, in picture frames on the dresser or end tables, no little knick knacks or things that people picked up and held on to for sentimental value. He found a framed Blade Runner certification shoved in the back of a drawer. A collection of digital books that all had to do with law and politics. He waited. He could have walked out the door, left Ignis far behind without a clue as to where he had gone. He could have made for the wall, looked for a breach in security, a way out into the unforgiving world beyond, out of Ardyn's grasp, but instead he waited.  

The door lock clicked open and Prompto was across the apartment before he knew what he was doing. He didn't know how much time had passed and he didn't know why he hadn't just left or why he was brimming with anticipation and his heart sped up.

That feeling didn't last long. 

Something was off. It was evident immediately in the jerk of his movements as Ignis entered the apartment and made a point to not look at Prompto like he might give something away, even if Prompto could already tell he was keeping everything under the surface. He approached Ignis slow and uncertain, his concern skyrocketing when Ignis finally looked at him with a face that was kept carefully neutral. There was danger here, but Prompto didn't understand how when just hours ago this place had seemed like the offer of a safe harbor. 

"Give me one good reason not to kill you right here and now."

Shock could be added to the list of new and unpleasant emotions Prompto was familiarizing himself with.

"I don't know wha-"

" _Enough_. Enough lying." Ignis was rubbing his hand across his mouth, an unconscious gesture of discomfort that Prompto was sure he didn't realize he was doing, and why Prompto was focusing on _that_ , the shape of his hand, the length of his fingers, and not the accusation, he didn't know. "You can't have just meant to kill me or you would have tried already. What are you after?"

"I'm not after anythin-"

" _Stop. Lying_. Did you think I wouldn't figure it out eventually? What did Ardyn send you to find?" He was speaking quickly, words lashing out like the crack of a whip, and the control over his emotions was breaking. The neutrality was gone, replaced by vicious anger, and now that he had let some part of himself show, it seemed Ignis couldn't keep everything covered. There was something else mixed in with that ferocity, something he was trying not to give away and that Prompto couldn't quite read, hovering just under the surface.

" _Ardyn?!_ Ardyn didn't send-"

"You were with him. You threatened Cindy Aurum."

"No!"

"You were _there_ -"

" _You don't know what he's like!_ " Prompto was yelling now, had gone to grab the front of Ignis's jacket, but quickly pulled himself back, only managing to give him a half-hearted shove instead, but it was enough to stop his endless accusations. He was breathing heavily.

"He's manipulative and he's evil and if you think I had any choice but to get dragged along, then you have no idea what you're dealing with, and I don't need to stay here and listen to your _fucking_ accusations." And at that he bolted, out the door and down the hall, and part of him wondered if Ignis would chase him all over again, if this time his aim would be true and Prompto would collapse with a bullet in the back of his head. But Ignis didn't follow and Prompto kept running out into the street once more, trying to get a grasp on why the lack of pursuit made him feel bitter.

It was only after he was long gone and far away when Prompto stopped to catch his breath and the afterburn of the image of Ignis's face was still in his mind did he realize what that look had been, hidden in the cracks of his anger; hurt. 

 

 

 

 

Luna's scream cut through the apartment like a knife.

The figure standing at the end of the foyer near the door was dark and hidden in shadow like some kind of omen and Pryna, ever trusting, loving Pryna, had bounded forward, tail wagging, ready to make a friend. The figure had bent down, holding out a hand to the synthetic dog and before Luna could do anything to stop it, Ravus was there.

"What, what it is?" he asked, and it was hard not to hear the concern that was etched in the tone of his voice, or the way that he stepped forward protectively in front of Luna.

She was sure she had locked the door.

Ardyn stood up and stepped forward so that he was no longer obscured by shadow and let himself be known. "Apologies for the intrusion," he said, hardly looking apologetic.

Ravus relaxed, if only marginally. "Luna, this is Ardyn. The friend I told you about."

"A pleasure to meet you," she said, but he feet remained planted where there were, suspicious in a way that she hadn't been with Ravus. 

"A charming bit of machinery," Ardyn said, gesturing at Pryna, "your work?" Luna nodded and Ardyn smiled back at her in a way that didn't reach his eyes. "Such talent."

"I had help." Everything was far too still, with the exception of Pryna, still wagging her tail and looking for attention, and the moment stretched on just slightly too long. "Do come in."

Ardyn gave her a formal little bow before sauntering into the apartment, and just like that the comfortable camaraderie built up between Ravus and Luna was gone, and he felt himself ache for it. Luna, of course, was the vision of hospitality, nothing but polite to Ardyn and she let him into her home. But something had changed. The warmth that had radiated from her was gone. And Ravus wanted it back.   

The changes were almost imperceptible now that Ardyn was their companion, something that Ravus wouldn't have noticed was lacking if he hadn't felt it in the first place. Luna continued on with her work much the same as before, and allowed Ardyn the same freedom she had given Ravus to all corners of her apartment. She let Ardyn inspect her projects and ask her questions, and he conversed with intelligence on the topic of genetic design, which she politely refrained from asked where he had learned so much. 

Still, Ravus noticed how she was slightly more careful now, how her shoulders relaxed only when Ardyn left the room.

Ravus stayed with her often, unaware that he was looking at Luna with a sort of fond admiration, just noticeable enough in the way it softened his features, made him look less severe. Had anyone tried to say something he would have denied it, but Ardyn saw.

Ardyn saw  everything. 

 

 

"She has quite the remarkable mind, doesn't she?" Ardyn had caught Ravus off guard in a way he didn't like to admit. He had been waiting, just behind the door so that Ravus wouldn't see him until it was too late and they were both stuck in the same room and Ardyn had him trapped. Luna, he noted, was out of earshot.  

"She does," Ravus said. Then, after consideration, "But not what you need."

"Not what I need."

"You still need Caelum." And would use Luna to get him there.

"Correct." 

Uncomfortable silence followed as Ardyn stared him down.

"Prompto's been busy making friends."

"Oh?" Ravus didn't much care about Prompto and what he was doing. He wasn't sure why Ardyn continued to string him along, Prompto was _soft_ , evident in every encounter they'd had with him present. He was soft and unhelpful, stood out and drew attention to them when they needed to lay low. He was a last minute tag along that Ardyn seemed to enjoy toying with far too much. 

"Friends with Blade Runners." _That_ caught his attention, as Ardyn knew it would. 

He'd seen the coverage of the squabble in the red light district. It wasn't far from the hotel, and while everyone was careful not to let the word Replicant slip, the entire fiasco had Prompto's name all over it. At the time Ravus had thought it was a miracle the little bundle of nerves hadn't gotten retired.

Perhaps it was no miracle after all. 

"I do hope Luna will stay safe."

"That sounded like a threat." _You said you wouldn't hurt her._

"A threat? Oh dear, no. I only meant that I fear for the girl's safety, with a Blade Runner on our tail now," Ardyn must have seen something on Ravus's face because he gave a little laugh, "You don't truly think Prompto hasn't told him where we were off to, hm? He was at the lab same as you and I, heard Cindy give her name."

"She's not a Replicant," Ravus's voice sounded far away to his own ears.

"Blade Runners are butchers, you know what their orders are." _Shoot to kill._ "You think men like that have any mercy? Luna's been harboring fugitives. High priority fugitives at that. She would be lucky to escape anything less than the death penalty. Do you think they'll take the time to stop and question her. Do you think they'd _believe_ her if she said she did not know what we are?" 

Rationality was slowly slipping through Ravus's fingers, as much as he tried to grasp on, and Ardyn's voice turned low and dark.

"There's a way to stop that from happening. There's a way to keep her safe. You know what that is don't you?"

Whatever passed for blood in his system was running cold.

"Yes."

"Luna would be none the wiser."

The solution was simple.

Kill the Blade Runner. Kill the Blade Runner before he had a chance to kill her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't uh, think too hard about the timeline or anything.
> 
>  
> 
> as always you are all welcome to come lurk/bother me on the tumbl @[notthelasttime ](https://notthelasttime.tumblr.com/)  
> I post dumb things and talk about aus and headcanons


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing this was like pulling teeth n i just. i can't stare at it anymore here u go
> 
> (warning for some very minor animal cruelty - though nothing graphic, no animal deaths, etc. nothing like that. I've been back and forth over whether to even put it in the tags or not, since it is so mild/vague but at the very least I figured I'd put a warning up here just to make sure you guys had a heads up)

A damp chill pervaded the city streets, making the air feel heavy. The evening had brought with it a temporary respite from the rain, but more was coming, more was always coming, and the puddles that littered the slick streets and filled their potholes would not have time to drain or evaporate before the next storm hit. 

Citizens were quick to take advantage of the opportunity to be out while the skies were dry and the streets were flooded with people instead of precipitation, the crowds missing the clutter of umbrellas, a strange sight in the city during the rainy autumn season. But what had once been the comfort of anonymity in the bustling city had become something hollow and lonely, the wash of lights becoming garish and unpleasantly bright as they illuminated the streets. The faces passing were vacant and it seemed the people brushing by had all the substance of ghosts; unreal, void. There was no comfort there, no companionship or something to ease against loneliness. 

There was only one face Ignis wanted to see. 

He had waited too long to go after Prompto, long enough for any trace of a trail there might have been had long since gone cold. And what did he have to go off of? A handful of photographs, the things that Prompto had been drawn to. But would he return to those places or move on, go somewhere new, where he hadn't been spotted before, or was he already on his way to the wall, slipping through the fingers of the guards as he passed through security, with fake papers and a stolen ID. 

If regret had a taste it would be bitter, and Ignis was becoming familiar with the way it coated his tongue. Prompto had been a pawn and Ignis could be added to the list of people dragging him around. 

The entire thing was an exercise in futility, Ignis had known that even before he left his apartment. Bodies pushed into him, tugged at his jacket, stepped on his feet, making Ignis uncharacteristically claustrophobic. He didn't know how long Prompto had been gone. He didn't know how long he'd been searching for him either. He had nowhere to go, not really, but to go home meant giving up and as he scanned the passers by he knew he still had to try. That same old ad for Altissia was playing overhead again ( _a new life, a chance to begin again_ ), and _Gods_ , if that didn't sound tempting. But he couldn't leave Insomnia, not with unfinished business. Futility was better than inaction. His conscience couldn't stand for it otherwise.

He must have made such an easy target, with his head fuzzy, sensed dulled, while ruminating on thoughts better left unsaid. Ignis slipped down another street, less crowded with bodies, street choked with parked spinners instead. A place in the city where people knew to mind their own business, where someone might get lost and not found again.

When his arm was grabbed and he was thrown on the ground, out of sight from the main street, he was still reeling from the shock of it when a fist came for his face and he felt his lip split open. He had never been snuck up on quite like this, such a bold attack in public. It seemed to be a time of many new firsts for him. He hadn't even heard them coming, and not even the sting of pain could draw him out from the corners of his mind. It all played out like it was happening to someone else, and Ignis, the real Ignis, was somewhere very far away.  

He was looking for a replicant but a replicant found him instead.

Ravus. The one that had tried to kill Aranea when he got caught in her web. It felt like ages ago. Another life, maybe, before Replicants had taken on another form in his mind. Ravus, standing over him looking like he'd gone half mad, eyes wild and furious, unlike the cold determination he remembered from the Voight-Kampff video. Perhaps Ignis wasn't really one to judge, he couldn't imagine he looked anything less than a wreck himself.

If Ignis was still lost in a fog, Ravus at least was focused on the _here and now_ , the physical, evident in the way that he came at Ignis again without pause _._ Attacking a man while he was down. Hardly fair, really, but perhaps Replicants played by a different set of rules.

Prompto had been all speed, quick and nimble, but Ravus was power. Slower movements but brutally executed, and he snatched Ignis up by the front of his shirt just to throw him back against the side of a spinner as if he weighed nothing. Ignis felt like he was moving through mud, muscles sluggish like he couldn't throw off the heaviness of his thoughts. He reached for his gun, still snug in its holster, and Ravus was smacking the useless thing out of his hand before he even had it fully drawn. He had to focus. Ravus was grabbing at his clothes again to hold him pinned against the spinner, and Ignis had the stupid thought in the back of his head that it'd be a shame if his shirt ripped. 

" _You won't hurt her_ ," Ravus's face was close enough to his own that he could see the spit flying out of his mouth the same way he spit those words out of his mouth. Emotion overtook his face, not like before, eyes filled with what could almost be called mania, lips twisted in distaste.

“You won’t hurt her!” He was yelling now, but even in a street missing the commotion of bodies the noise wouldn’t carry, no one would come to see what was happening. Ignis was utterly on his own. He couldn’t outmatch strength like Ravus but he could strategize. It was what had always made him successful in the past, relying on his mind and utilizing his own strengths where it could outmatch superior replicant physiology. If only he could fucking pull himself together long enough to do so.

“Who?” Ravus dealt a blow across his face and he tasted blood, like he’d been sucking on a mouthful of copper pennies. “Who are you talking about?” He sounded calm even to his own ears, not like someone outmatched, pinned down with a bloody face. A conversation between gentlemen. Perhaps they could come to an understanding.

But Ravus was relentless in his assault, discussion irrelevant to him. A Backhanded blow this time, and Ignis believed his nose started bleeding. If Ravus kept it up he'd be lucky not to lose one of his teeth.

Mania. Obsessions. Emotional immaturity. It was one thing to discuss these developments with the Doctor high in his tower over insomnia, it was quite another to be at the mercy of it. 

“I won’t let you hurt her,” he was lifting Ignis off his feet to throw him onto the hood of the spinner with enough force to make the windshield crack. Ignis was not a weak man but every fist he tried to throw at Ravus was easily deflected, his strength was no match and he couldn't _think_ and his options were quickly looking like they might be die slow or die quick.

He was thrown on the ground once again, Ravus tossing him around like a rag doll and dirty city water was quickly sopped up by his clothes and his glasses went flying somewhere unknown, useless as his lost gun.

“Are you afraid?” Ravus asked.

He was. He was afraid but maybe he had been for a long time. Afraid of what Insomnia had turned him into.

“It’s a Replicants life, to live in fear. Only seems fair that you should feel it too before you die.”

There was nowhere to run and Ravus stood over him again, fists clenched and ready to strike. He had no gun, but could grab Ignis by the head and crack his skull open like a melon with his hands and Ravus would just walk away while his heart sputtered and stopped bleating, a mess of gore where his face once was. No one would recognize him. A pitiful end, but oddly just, seeing himself killed by the thing he had spent his life hunting. And with the light snuffed out, Ignis would have to worry no more. No more Replicants, no more running.

“I’m doing this to keep her safe,” Ravus said, and then the top of his head exploded.

He stood for a moment before his body collapsed. A gaping exit wound leaking blood splayed open from the center of his forehead, callous expression on his face gone slack, and when he fell to the ground with a heavy thud it was Prompto that stood behind him, holding the smoking gun.

 

 

 

 

" _Oh,_ " Luna let out little more than a quiet gasp when she turned the corner and saw him, but it was still too much. Any sign other than absolute control and conviction in front of Ardyn was too much, as he would hone in on and exploit any perceived weakness. This she knew. And whatever hold he'd had on Ravus, Luna did not want extended to herself.

Ravus - she'd been looking for him. Preoccupied as she was by her own work, she noticed when it had been some time since she'd seen him, and was immediately suspicious. He'd been on edge ever since Ardyn had appeared, his supposed friend, and something about him had put a foul taste in Luna's mouth from the start. Ardyn was cruelty and and schemes but Ravus, there was still humanity in Ravus. Yes, _humanity,_ at least so long as Ardyn didn't dig his claws in any deeper. Luna was no fool, she knew a Replicant when she saw one, but she was also not of the same mind as the general public and did not see fit to condemn those creations just because they had started to evolve, especially when she'd had a hand in making them. Replicant emotions were no so clear cut as people pretended them to be, and they could be kind or terrible or painted in shades of grey just like anyone else. Ardyn however, was another matter entirely. Ardyn was something different, Ardyn was dangerous. 

"Where's Ravus?" she asked nonchalant, trying desperately to sound braver than she felt, Ardyn staring her down from the opposite end of the hallway.

"He's gone to run a trivial little errand for me," he replied in the same tone of voice he used for everything. It could have been lackadaisical, almost, if it didn't sound so threatening.

He took a a step forward as Luna took a step back. Ardyn smiled, vicious, twisted. 

"In fact, Ravus had been hoping you would help us with another little errand. I'm sure he never mentioned it to you, the shy boy, but he told me you would be amiable." 

"Is that so?" Luna kept her face placid, and Umbra chose that moment to appear at her feet, tension in his body, sensing the danger. 

"Yes, but here's the thing," his face turned thoughtful. An act. "Ravus seemed to think you would be amicable to our ideas, but I..." he shook his head, smiling again, "I had my doubts."

Where Umbra went Pryna followed, and she appeared in the doorway behind Ardyn, but the sweet girl had never been like Umbra, never had the same intuition. She started walking towards Ardyn, tail wagging, oblivious, and Luna called her name to get her to come, tried to dart forwards to grab her, but Ardyn, quick and cunning and knowing her every move, grabbed Pryna first.  

She did not miss the little whimper that came from Pryna's mouth as Ardyn snatched her up by the scruff of the neck, holding her up at eye level. The bastard had enough nerve to look amused, as he glanced at Luna, frozen in place once again, and back to her dog.

Luna stood still. Umbra was growling now, poised to fight, but Luna stood _still_. It was a dangerous game that Ardyn wanted to play and she had to be oh so careful. 

She moved one foot forward as if to take a step and Ardyn, the smile never leaving his face, gripped Pryna tighter and gave her a shake until whines came out of her mouth, eyes pleading as she looked at Luna, hanging in the balance.

Luna grounded herself and had to focus on steady breathing; in and out. Ardyn was going to make her play by his rules. 

"What," she said, "do you want."

"Take me to Dr. Caelum."

" _No._ "

He laughed.

"My dear," he said, "I wasn't asking."

Steady breathing, in and out. 

"Put Pryna down."

He was laughing again, "She really means so much to you? Interesting. It's only a machine, after all."

Luna bit back a snarl of her own but couldn't hold her tongue, "As are you."

The smile dropped off of Ardyn's face as he opened his hand and Pryna fell with a yelp and then he was moving forward, coming for Luna with determination and something boiling under the flat expression he maintained, Umbra was barking, and when Luna saw the blade in his hand she turned to run, a moment too late. 

 

 

 

 

 

Ignis poured Prompto a drink, and didn't fail to notice the way his hands were shaking when he took the glass. 

A surprisingly human reaction, and if Ignis somehow still had any doubts about the sincerity of Prompto's words, they could be laid to rest. He watched Prompto's profile, stark against the light from the window, watched the rapid blinking of his eyes and the tiny sips he took of whiskey.

Ignis thought of the first time he killed a Replicant. 

It had been a mess, the Replicant hardly looking older than 16, practically a child, holed up in an abandoned factory on the edge of the South District. The evidence had led him there but he hadn't actually expected to _find_ anything, so that when the Replicant came at him, swinging a crowbar, fighting for his life, Ignis was lucky to have made it out alive. He was sloppy, inexperienced, all of his training running out of his head when he first saw blood and thought about how a gunshot wound on a Replicant looked the same as it did on a human being. 

His aim was off and he fired four times before anything hit, and even then they weren't fatal shots. He saw the Replicant from where he was lying on the ground, bleeding from his thigh, his waist, and Ignis had had to walk up to him and shoot him again, end it for good. Afterwards his hands would shake, and when he called it in and word got out that he had taken down his first Replicant _alone_ , Cor Leonis had been there, looking at Ignis with an expression of pride that he'd never seen before, in a way that made his gut twist, knowing that to get that glimmer of approval he'd have to do this again. And again.

Prompto had picked him up off the street and held him steady, found his gun and his glasses and pressed them back into his hands. And Ignis had brought him back home. 

How long until someone found the body? Prompto had shot Ravus with his own gun, Ignis couldn't be linked to the scene, at least not immediately. In Ignis's apartment they were, at least for now, safe. They were together again in an odd rerun of what had already taken place, played out again with a different stage set. 

His face was still covered in blood, and Ignis walked to the sink, stripping off his jacket, his gloves, his holster, and undid the top few buttons on his shirt before leaning over and dousing himself with cold water, watching it drip pink off the tip of his nose and swirl down the drain. His jaw ached and the split skin on his lip was tender but it didn't seem to matter.

Ravus was dead. Two more to go.

....one more to go.  

Ignis felt the skin on the back of his neck prick with the feeling of eyes on him as he flushed his mouth out with water and watched that go down the drain murky as well. 

"If I ran, would you come after me?" The way Prompto asked the question, Ignis couldn't tell if it was a good or a bad thing, the hypothetical chase. 

"No," he said, voice rough, "I owe you one."

"You don't," Prompto stepped closer to him, "you let me get away before, and now I helped you. We're even."

"No," he shook his head. He hadn't saved Prompto that time, Prompto had saved himself. 

"What if I don't want to run," his voice had gone quiet, but his blue eyes burned bright with something Ignis couldn't place, but he was hesitant, hesitant to trust again when last time he'd gotten burned for it. 

"Then others would come."

"But not you?"

Ignis sighed. Prompto had inched closer into his personal space, eyes downcast once again while he started down into his glass of whiskey, held in both hands, like it could provide him with answers. Ignis placed his hands on Prompto's shoulders, bringing his gaze back up, curious. 

"This city will never be safe for you," he said, squeezing Prompto too tight before he forced himself to back away, walk out of the room. But Prompto followed. 

They didn't speak for a long while, but he felt Prompto watching him, the same as he was watching Prompto; stolen looks, careful curiosity, each trying to judge where the other stood.

Ignis dozed. He fell asleep on the couch and thought he felt Prompto there with him, curled up by his side, then opened his eyes and saw Prompto by the window, pale skin and blonde hair colored blue and teal by the neon lights outside, making him look unreal, a phantom, and Ignis closed his eyes again. He did not know how much time passed. But Prompto was still there when he woke. 

"Did you dream?"

"No," he said, and perhaps it was the truth.

He should have pushed Prompto away and been done with it. 

Prompto was there, in his personal space again when he stood up, his body throwing off heat, and Ignis let him get close.

"I don't want to run," he said, the tremble in his hands for different reasons this time, "not without...." He was nervous. He leaned in, stretched his neck.

Ignis was certain Prompto had never kissed anyone before. It was in the way he jerked forward, misjudged the distance and smashed their mouths together in a way that was anything but romantic, drawing back almost immediately.

"Sorry," he said, a whisper and a mumble, though whether it was for the kiss itself or for the clumsiness of it Ignis didn't know, and he didn't give Prompto a chance to clarify when he leaned back in to offer a kiss of his own, to show him how. Gentle this time, soft. He could be a patient teacher, and Prompto was an apt pupil. One hand came up to cradle the side of Prompto's face, another on his neck where he felt the flutter of a pulse, beat by a mechanical heart, but a heartbeat all the same. Prompto brought his hands up to his chest, maybe feeling for a heartbeat of his own. 

He parted Prompto's lips, _careful_ , and felt hands pull at the fabric of his shirt, holding him tight when he opened his mouth wider, teased with his tongue. Ignis felt the sting on his lip when Prompto brushed it, and for his sake Ignis hoped he didn't taste like blood, a first kiss should never taste like blood. Shyness gave way and Prompto pressed closer, eager for more, and when Ignis opened his eyes he saw Prompto looking sincere, determination set in his brow like this was a test and not just a kiss.

Just a kiss. 

They parted. 

Ignis, ever practical, always objective, had to pull himself back, like a sharp yank on the leash of an unruly dog and if he wasn't careful he would choke himself with the force of it.

He was breathless, had to let go and turn his back on Prompto, the Replicant that had time and time again been met with the short end of the stick, and still he managed to look at Ignis with nothing but longing and curiosity, only wondering why they had stopped. 

Ignis had never in his life wanted to be so selfish. He wanted to take Prompto in his arms again, pull him back in and kiss away everything that had happened. He would hide him there if he could, keep him in the tiny apartment, safe from the world outside, and spend his days learning if it was possible to make a Replicant blush. But to lock him up again when Prompto had only just gained his freedom would be the cruelest thing he could do, and truly he would never be safe. Not in Insomnia. Ignis was the only thing keeping him there, and Ignis could not protect him, not from the outside world nor from himself.

Prompto would not leave willingly. He had already proved that, to come back to him after Ignis had lashed out, and now things were more complicated. Prompto would not leave even for his own safety unless he broke down whatever image Prompto had of him in his head to make sure that the tie was cut for good, no risk of him wandering back.

He had to make it hurt.

"Ignis-"

He turned around.

"I didn't realize they were still making Pleasure Units."

Prompto recoiled as if he'd been slapped. 

"I-I'm not..." He saw the flutter of eyelids, the crease in his forehead, downward tilt of the head all reading confusion, and hurt. He wondered if it was just the flash of light from outside or if Prompto suddenly looked paler, and why couldn't he stop running his eyes over the face in front of him like he was performing another fucking Voight-Kampff test. 

"That's why you think I..."

"I know you're programmed to offer, but I'm not interested in Replicants, I can't imagine you wouldn't understand."

He turned his back on Prompto again, rubbing a hand along his bruised jaw, not wanting to watch any longer as Prompto processed what was being said. His only ally in Insomnia, someone he had come to care for, someone he had _killed_ for, turning him away, treating him as less than human just as everyone had done before. 

"Ignis, wait, I-"

"If that's all you came back here for then perhaps it's time you took your leave. I'll have to get back to work soon and I can't afford any distractions."

It wasn't like last time, when Prompto had run out in a rush, angry and fuming. This time it was slow and pathetic and Ignis kept himself turned away so that he wouldn't be tempted to do something stupid like stop Prompto before he left and apologize, take it all back, beg for mercy. He kept still and quiet instead, and when he heard the soft click of the door shutting he sat down heavily and put his face in his hands and let that old familiar loneliness set back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~so much of deckard and rachel together in the apartment feels so dreamlike in blade runner and i wanted to convey that feeling but i hope it didn't just come off as disjointed or rambly~~
> 
>  
> 
> Ravus's fate is actually something I put a lot of thought into, starting from way back when I first had a little baby idea for this fic and figured Ravus would probably be a fill in for leon. I made a few attempts at writing things in a way that didn't result in his death and it just... never felt right, and didn't do enough for the plot. I'm sorry ravus but it had to be 
> 
> (plus in terms of character death just throwing it out there i am going to be a lot kinder than both ffxv and blade runner because i'm not a complete monster)
> 
>    
> finally caved and got my ass on spotify too, you can find the playlist for this fic [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/notthelasttime/playlist/1Lmlka2AjLzGdV0Lz11VOP)  
> playlists for other fics will be popping up soon i'm sure
> 
> and as always, feel free to come hang out with me on tumblr [here](https://notthelasttime.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings abt super mild implied animal abuse carry over into this chapter
> 
>  ~~HOW ABT THAT NEW NIN HUH~~ been listening to [the background world ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDIjTaPt9co) p much nonstop. mr reznor just knows how to tap into that existential void u kno.

Being ripped to shreds by all the hoards of daemons in all of Gralea wouldn't hurt like this.

How could it have felt so good, so  _right_  when this was the result? That soft mouth on his, the warmth that sparked through him as he was enveloped by everything that was Ignis - the faded but lingering smell of sweat mixed with his cologne, his gentle hands, the body heat burning through his clothes when Prompto put his hands on his chest and swore he could feel his heart beat, faster than it should have been for someone that didn't care. 

He had thought... well, Prompto didn't know what he had thought. Thought that he was coming to understand Ignis, that Ignis was coming to understand him. Thought that what had passed between them was building up to something, that everything, all the way from the start had _meant_ something. It had to. Because otherwise he was seeing things that weren't there, making connections where there were none, and there was some nasty part of him, a snarling voice in the back of his mind that kept insisting it was because he was a Replicant. He could think and suspect and imagine that he saw things all he wanted but at the end of it all, what did he know about being human anyway. 

It hurt. That's what he understood now. If this was the glorious gift of being human then they could keep their emotions. Prompto didn't want them any more than he wanted to stay in this godsdamned city a moment longer than he had to.

Things had been altered now with his perception, the novelty of it all worn off and he could see the dirt showing through the cracks. Insomnia had seemed so full of life but now he saw it was just dying, rotting everything from the inside out. This was not a place that fostered hope, it would suck anyone dry given enough time. 

Insomnia had brought him nothing but trouble. And he would leave. He was _going_ to leave, even if it was a decision he hadn't yet consciously acknowledged, though he knew that he couldn't stay here anymore. But the emotional shock had left him raw and wounded and lost.

And so when Ardyn called, he came.  

 

 

 

 

 

Luna opened her eyes and she heard voices; muffled, low. 

" _....oh... did you think you were falling in love? ....... would require a heart, dear. A real one.... not the mess of wires and lab grown flesh that manages to pump blood through your veins...._ "

A laugh, high and cold and mocking, like the tone of his sing-song voice.

" _.....the only one left in the city that understands you..._."

Luna saw him then, his face in her mind's eye, snarling and furious, that glint of light reflecting of the blade in his hand as he charged towards her and-

She gasped, tried to sit up and pain spiked through her stomach so sharp she couldn't breathe, and the world went dark again. 

 

 

 

When Luna's eyes opened back up, the world was a blur of lines and colors that slowly came together to form an image, abstract at first until she gained her bearings and her vision cleared. 

She was lying on the floor. Pain throbbed through her torso and she felt tension tugging back behind her eyes, a dull ache in her head. With all the coordination of a newborn, she brought her hands to her stomach, carefully walking her fingers along her own body. Her shirt was stilly tacky with blood and she skirted the edges of the wound, trying to assess the damage. Moving slowly she brought her head up, not wanting to make the same mistake as last time, and even that little bit of strain brought her pain, tears stinging the corners of her eyes and she grimaced and bit down hard on her tongue. _Not. Now_. Crying was just about the least productive thing she could possibly do right now. 

The knife had left a long diagonally gash in her, the skin parted like a mouth, and every time she moved and used the muscles in her stomach it burned, flaring out to something more muted along the edges. When she tensed she saw more blood seep out of the wound, rivulets rolling down her side and on to the floor where it had already begun to pool. Her shirt was a mess of red, thick and dark, half dried and sticking to her like a second skin. How long had she been unconscious? 

It wasn't fatal. That was something good to focus on. It wasn't so deep as to be fatal, at least not if she got it tended to soon enough, but the bleeding wasn't going to stop on its own. 5 pints before her body stopped functioning, how much had she lost already?

"Ah, look who decided to join us."

Luna hadn't heard Ardyn walk into the room, and she felt herself go very still, mind working in overtime to try and come up with some sort of plan. He was standing in the doorway, back in control of himself, looking smug once again. There was someone behind him. Not Ravus. 

"I took the liberty of inviting another friend to join us. You don't mind, do you," he smiled, tilting his head, "Luna, meet Prompto. Prompto, this is Luna." Another Replicant. One looking half dead behind the eyes but Luna knew he wasn't here by choice any more than she was. But would he do something about it - asset or enemy. She had to find out fast. 

Ardyn threw Luna's jacket at her, and reflex made her raise an arm to catch it, the sudden movement making her hiss.

"Get up."

She glared back at him.

" _Get up_. We have places to be, people to see."

"I'm not taking you to Dr. Cae-"

"I think you will," Ardyn said and smiled at her again, and when he laughed she felt fear. 

 

 

 

 

Thunder was in the air.

Luna clutched clutched Pryna tight to her chest while she whimpered, and for the thousandth time that night Luna looked at Ardyn and mentally spat all the venom she could from her mind; _bastard, you absolute manipulative fucking bastard_.

Pryna's breathing was shallow, uneven, her back leg was twisted out at an odd angle, and she would cry whenever it was jostled, looking up at Luna like she was asking _why_. Luna didn't know the extent of the internal damage, only knew enough that this wasn't something she could fix on her own, and Ardyn been counting on that, had been assessing her skill from the start. _It's just a dog,_ and a mechanical one at that, something had whispered in the back of her mind when she saw the damage and knew Dr. Caelum would have to be the one to fix it. But it _wasn't_ just a dog, it was _Pryna_ , and in this sad and lonely city, Pryna and Umbra were all she had. No more family, not since her brother had died, and maybe someone might think it was pathetic that her own genetic creations were all she could consider as friends, but she didn't much care. They had been there for her, and damn it she wasn't just going to let Pryna die. She only had to hope that Dr. Caelum could help her, that he was smart enough to think up a way for them to get out of this, a way to keep Ardyn under control. She had to hope, because if not she would have to deal with the very real possibility that her refusal to sacrifice herself at Ardyn's hand may be leading to someone else's death.

She couldn't think about that. Not right now. She had to think of a way _out_. 

They didn't have the luxury of a spinner, and so had to approach the Citadel from the ground up. She wanted to scream, automated security letting them through without a hitch because she had all the correct credentials, and gods knew she had given the Doctor more than one late night call when she was stuck on a project. The rain coat wrapped around her covered the bloody mess Ardyn had made of her body, and with her arms holding fast to Pryna, she could only get so much pressure on the wound. Prompto kept a hand on her shoulder to hold her steady as they walked to an elevator, fingers digging in a little too tight, though not because he was trying to hurt her. She kept trying to catch his eye, to get his attention and see if he could help her (help _himself_ ) get out of this mess, but Luna wasn't entirely sure he knew what he was doing or why he was doing it. Then again the same could be said about her. It hurt too much to stand up straight and she already felt lightheaded from losing so much blood. _5 pints_ , she kept repeating it in her head like a mantra, _5 pints, 5 pints, 5 pints_. 

Up and up they went, view of the city visible through the glass windows of the elevator, and dark clouds boiled and rolled in the sky. When they were nearly to the top, they slowly came to a stop. Procedure as usual.

There was a moment before anything happened, and then a metallic voice rang out from a hidden speaker. "Purpose of visit please."

Luna hesitated. Was she dead either way? Could she stop this now, refuse to get him any further and keep Ardyn from getting any closer to Dr. Caelum? Ardyn turned to look at her and blinked slowly.

"Dr. Caelum it's Luna, I.... I need your help. Pryna, she's..." she was crying now, and praying that she hadn't just made a terrible decision, but she had to hope that Dr. Caelum would see a way out of this. A deep breath didn't take the tremble in her voice away, "Please, I don't know how to fix her, I think she's-"

Abrupt, the elevator started up again, and Ardyn looked satisfied.

The doors opened up to the same elaborate room in which Ignis Scientia had performed a Voight-Kampf test not so long ago. But this time the windows overlooking the city were filled with the bleak view of a growing storm instead of the pale sunlight of morning. Lightning flashed across the sky, and for a moment the room was white. 

"Luna, my dear is everything all... right..."

Dr. Caelum had already dressed down for the evening, and without carefully tailoring his appearance, he looked more of the weak old man that he pretended he wasn't. That hadn't mattered when he heard Luna's voice come through the speaker of his private room. She knew him too well to make judgments about his health, not when she was one of the few that knew the extent of his declining condition. But he hadn't expected that she wouldn't be alone. 

Half of a second and he knew. Replicants. Luna, clutching a whimpering Pryna to her chest who was indeed clearly hurt, but no so bad as Luna herself if the pallor of her skin was anything to judge by. 

The position of privilege brought with it access to privileged information, and Dr. Caelum knew. He looked at Ardyn and knew. He clasped his hands behind his back to make himself appear as dignified as possible. 

"I'm surprised it took you this long to come find me," he said, and his head didn't move as his eyes followed Ardyn who strolled into the room, taking time first to look at the painting on the far wall, then coming to examine the display of blades.

"Forgive me, I was delayed," he said, "though you have been ever on my mind."

"Oh?" Luna with the other Replicant, still in the back of the room, tears streaking down pale cheeks. Her gaze steady on him, waiting to see what he would do. 

"You see, it's not an easy thing to meet your maker," Ardyn said, and took a short sword with an elaborate handle etched in silver and gold off the wall, twisted the blade in an arc, checked the balance of it. "I wonder... can the maker fix what he makes?"

So, intimidation tactics. Well Dr. Caelum was not so easily intimidated, old man that he was. 

"What is it exactly that needs fixing."

Ardyn stopped his fidgeting, stepped closed, full attention suddenly on Dr. Caelum, turning fierce. 

"You gave me an _expiration_ date."

There was the slightest crack in Dr. Caelum's facade at that, and maybe for a moment his eyes went a little soft, some tenderness deep down in his heart slipping through the fraying seams.

"We all do," he said, "We all _die_. You, my greatest creation, have been modeled after the human image. You _found_ your humanity, even when the engineers saw fit to leave you without it. Yet I can't stop death for you any more than I can for my s- myself."

In three long steps Ardyn crossed the distance between them until he was uncomfortably close to Dr. Caelum, eyes glowing fever bright, their faces inches apart. 

" _I. Won't._ " 

But Dr. Caelum was shaking his head, "I _can't_. A coding sequence can't be revised once it's established. I try to fix you and it will be fatal."

Ardyn licked his lips, unblinking, "Why?"

"By the second day of incubation any cells that have undergone reversion mutation give rise to revertant colonies, like rats leaving a sinking ship. The ship sinks."

"What about E.M.S. recombination?"

"We've tried. Ethlyl methane sulfonate is an alkylating agent and a potent mutagen. It created a virus so lethal the subject was destroyed before we left the table." Caelum could see he his jaw tighten, the tension around his mouth. There was such little distance between them it would be hard to miss it, and he wondered how close this particular Replicant was to his tipping point. 

"Then a repressor portein that blocks the operating cells," Ardyn suggested, but Dr. Caelum was already shaking his head no.

"Wouldn't obstruct replication, but it does give rise to an error in replication so that the newly formed DNA strand carries a mutation and you've got a virus again.... You are already made as well as we could make you."

"Not well enough," was all he said, and it was all the warning Caelum had before Ardyn swept the sword in his hand in a long upward arc, slicing him open from his belly to his neck. Tipping point not so far off after all. 

Dr. Caelum fell, the sick thud of dead weight on the slick tile floor, eyes still open and Luna screamed something hoarse and nearly fell herself as she tried to run forward, but Prompto held her back.

Prompto, who felt like his eyes had finally opened for the first time in days.  

" _Dad!_ "

Three faces turned to the figure in the doorway, the young boy with dark hair looking at the body on the floor with horror in his eyes, and Ardyn just tilted his head and said, "Oh. Another one of us."

Either Noctis didn't hear him or he didn't care, and in a second he too had turned to the wall of blades, grabbing one without looking and he charged at Ardyn without a second thought, moving faster than any human could, motions blurring with the quickness of it. He came at Ardyn hard, grunting with the effort as he swung his blade, back, forward, left, a quick succession of movements that Ardyn blocked while looking bored and Noctis screamed and swung again, both hands gripping the handle as he brought it straight down, and Ardyn was surprised into having to fight that blow off, surprised by the sudden burst of strength fueled by grief and adrenaline. One of them indeed, emotions and all.

They moved.

Noct swung wildly and pushed Ardyn back, back towards the back of the room and Prompto, hyper aware of every moment, every movement, taking the scene in like it was happening in slow motion, had to fling Luna out of the way to keep her out of the line of fire. She fell on the floor and stayed there, blue eyes rimmed with red, she watched the fight and held on to Pryna, held her tight. 

Steel clashed and there was thunder, lightning flashing in the room again while their blades locked and the both tried to brute force their way to a win.They broke apart, Ardyn the victor, Noct's arm sent flinging back from the force of it, leaving his body wide open and Ardyn saw, moved his sword down aimed straight for the heart.

A gunshot.

It was loud enough in the room to leave their ears all ringing and Ardyn stumbled, dropped his arm, looking down at his chest. Prompto had left Luna where she'd fallen, stood with his feet planted, both hands on the butt of his gun to keep his aim true, heart thumping away in his chest repeating the same word with every beat, _no, no, no_. No more death. Not here. Not tonight. 

And then Ardyn looked up at Prompto and smiled. 

"You didn't _really_ think that was enough to kill me, did you?"

He shot again, square in the chest and Ardyn laughed, a sound that he had come to hate, but at least Noctis was there to try and cut it off as he came for Ardyn again, filled with too much fury to stop.

Prompto ran to Luna to help her up, wanting to get her out of the way as the fight crept closer, but her mind was gone. Shock, maybe, or lack of blood, but she didn't seem to understand the urgency, even as Prompto latched on to her arm and tried to drag her away. A blow sent Noct careening in their direction, close enough to nearly trip on Luna and Ardyn was on him again, swinging and swinging until Noct blocked and parried, pushing him back again, but now Prompto and Luna stood at the center. 

It was like they realized it at the exact same time, and as Noct latched on to Luna, holding tight, forcing her behind him, at the same time Ardyn snatched Prompto, quick enough that he couldn't stop it from happening and suddenly there was a blade at his throat. 

Tense silence filled the room which moments before had been echoing with too many sounds and they stared each other down, Noctis protecting Luna, and Ardyn with Prompto as his shield. 

"I think it's time I took my leave," Ardyn said, already walking backwards, back towards the elevator, blade biting close to Prompto's neck when he didn't move along quick enough, "I would hate to overstay my welcome." 

Noctis started to move forward and the blade was pulled close again. " _Don't_ ," Luna said with desperation, gripping the back of Noct's shirt to try and keep him from moving, " _don't_ , he'll die." 

"Smart girl," Ardyn said, as they crossed back into the elevator, and as the doors closed over them Prompto kept looking at Luna, her eyes never leaving his as she mouthed _I'm_ _sorry_.

 

 

 

 

 

Ignis listened to his phone ring.

(and ring and ring and ring and)

It seemed like it would take some monumental force of effort to him to get up and find it. Effort that he couldn't quite find at the moment.

he told himself he had done right thing. He had found something, something bright and filled with hope and it would have been cruel to keep it here and stifle it. Insomnia was in the nasty habit of finding these things and weeding them out. Hope was worthless here. And Ignis had become a part of the city as much as the city was a part of him, no matter how much he wished it wasn't so. He could live with the consequences of his actions. He would have to.

The endless ringing was exacerbating his headache and there was apparently only going to be one way to make it stop. He got up. 

"What?" he snapped into the receiver, like they were interrupting something. Like he hadn't just been sitting around feeling sorry for himself. 

"There better be a good fucking reason you haven't been answering my calls." Cor. Charming as always. Would 'unexpected downward spiral' count as a valid excuse to miss work, maybe apply for FMLA? Cor didn't give him a chance to answer. "Get down to the Citadel. Now. Our replicants paid a visit, its a godsdamned mess."

"Replicants?" Plural.

"Caelum's dead. Izunia did a number on his body. We've got witnesses. He sought out a genetic designer by the name of Luna and used her to get in, messed her up pretty bad, she was inconsolable when we got here, but the medics patched her up and gave her a sedative. We haven't gotten much out of her. Dr. Caelum's son's been calming her down." A pause, "Did you know he had a son?"

" _Yes_. Tell me about the Replicants."

"No idea where they're headed now, trying to see if we can lift something from the security footage. Just Izunia and Argentum, no sign of Ravus. which means he's probably up to nothing good."

 _No_.

 _No, no, no_ he was supposed to get _out,_ not run towards the fire. A thought ( _you don't know what he's like_ ), running through his head. _Gods_ this couldn't be his fault too. 

"Luna. Where does she live?" There was a hard edge to his voice now, a tone of command that went hand in hand with having a purpose. Ignis knew he had to act fast. 

"Why?"

" _Where_."

He sighed, "Bradbury apartment in District Nine. But she didn't say anyth-"

"Ravus is dead."

" _What?_ " 

"He attacked me just now, near my apartment, out in the open. Monroe Street. They're getting desperate, there's a good chance they've been hiding out nearby if they knew where I live." _Shit, would he believe any of this?_ "Body's still on the street."

"Fuck, you could have said something sooner. I'll be over as soon as I can, got to get things sorted here first. I'll see you there."

"Right," Ignis said and hung up his phone without bothering to say goodbye, already on his way to District Nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I referenced the blade runner script pretty heavily for the encounter between ardyn and regis. tried to put my own spin on it but i really didn't think i could come up wth my own fake science for modifying replicants so most of that jargon is verbatim 
> 
> (... is it 4 pints of blood you can lose before you're not functional?  like 5 ur dead but you're incapacitated at 4. whatever, luna you'll be fine. rub some dirt on it)
> 
> also i ... kind of hate when people overexplain their writing but i am a bit worried that it might seem like ravus/prompto are coming off as weak for being easily manipulated by ardyn, because that's not my intention at all. they're both very emotionally raw from experiencing strong feelings of attachment for people for the first time, plus the inclination replicants have towards obsessing on their new feelings... ardyn is a manipulative bastard (and a freakishly overpowered replicant). i wanted it to be more of a matter of him knowing just where to poke and prod and exploit, rather than prompto and ravus being stupid or incompetent


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i'm sorry i will reread and edit this again later bc i'm sure there are mistakes but i just dont have it in me right now)

Lightning flashed hot across the sky, bright enough to blind. The first few drops of rain had started to splatter on the ground, slow but picking up momentum as the oncoming storm finally began its descent upon the city.

Ignis stood outside of the Bradbury apartments, looking up. The building was dark, a black mark across the skyline, and he counted the seconds until thunder sounded. 

Time was short. He had to move. 

There was no question in his mind that he was walking into a trap. Some instinct that had served him well as a Blade Runner was whispering to him now, telling him they were here. Whatever Ardyn had come to Insomnia for he hadn't found it. Caelum was dead, Ravus and the other Replicants were dead, and he was running out of options, dragging Prompto down with him as he went. Ignis knew he couldn't hope to fix the damage done already, but he could try to make it right. A final crusade. The thought was almost enough to calm him, body tense and shoulders tight. Replicants never went down easy.

The front door gave way when he pushed it open, groaning on rusted hinges, a noise drowned out by more thunder. No one waiting to see him in.  

It was dark. lightning struck again, flashing through the tall windows giving him something to see by; rain was collecting on the floor, the wallpaper was peeling and there was the pervasive _drip, drip, drip_ , of water coming in from the ceiling. He was being watched.

Two eyes, reflecting light, stared at him from partway up the first set of stairs. A noise from a floor far above, a crash and a thud. Ignis drew his gun and walked forward, breathing steady, eyes on the black dog waiting patiently for him. Silently it turned and ran up to the next flight, looking over it's shoulder to see if Ignis would follow; he did, careful and quiet and straining to hear something, anything while he took the steps two at a time. Up and up, Ignis trying to watch everything at once. The black dog led him down a long hallway to a door, and the door opened. 

From somewhere inside, Ardyn laughed, and Ignis walked in.

Rain streaked down the windows, warping the light coming in from outside putting everything in motion. Doorways opened up along either side of the long entrance, another at the end. Ignis crept along the wall in a shadow, turned right.

The apartment was a mess of moving parts and ticking hands, half built machinery littered every surface, spilled onto the floor. Ignis was quiet, minful of his footing through the cluttered rooms, trying to keep his breath steady, hands steady, when his heart was thundering. But he had to be  _ready_. Ready for whatever Ardyn had planned in what was surely his final stand. 

There- a noise, down the hall and Ignis was gone, flying towards it on silent feet and _there_ \- Prompto, tumbling past the doorway gone in an instant (the way he moved- was he hurt?) and then him,  _Ardyn_. 

Ignis fired. 

The first shot hit him in the shoulder and Ardyn's head snapped towards him, eyes on fire before he started laughing, turning now to walk towards Ignis. 

"I was wondering when we'd finally meet," he said, voice smooth and slick and Ignis knew how the Replicants he'd dragged along had fallen at his feet. He was the kind of man that made people listen, half out of wonder, half out of fear. Ignis shot him again in the center of his chest he he bled black. Something corrupted, like contaminated oil, something he was built with, something the engineers put inside him to make him that much stronger, clear in the way that he kept walking despite his wounds, smile on his face. There was black blood in his mouth. 

Not a man. A machine. 

Ignis fled. Replicants, regular, standard Replicants outmatched humans in terms of strength and stamina and Ardyn was something else entirely. Ignis couldn't take him head on, couldn't fight him straight and hope to win. Run, regroup, _think_. With any luck Prompto was long lost somewhere else in the building by now, on his way out.

" _That's_ not polite," Ardyn yelled after him, not bothering to chase. "Don't they teach you Blade Runners any manners?"

"Ignis?" Prompto's voice echoed through the rooms of the apartment from somewhere far away, and his voice was clouded in suspicion, expecting some trick. 

"Prompto, run!"

"Two against one is hardly fair," Ardyn yelled from behind him, sounding gleeful like this was all just a game to him while he played with everyone else's lives.

_Think, think, think_. His mind was turning as he ran through the apartment. Two against one, true, but if Ardyn had been expecting him then that wasn't an advantage, and his priority was getting Prompto out, not sucking him into the fight. But it had to end here, one way or another because Ardyn wouldn't stop wrecking havoc until he was dead. He had nothing else to lose. Nothing but his life.

Luna's apartment was massive. _Regroup_. If he could catch Ardyn by surprise, loop around behind him, but Ardyn knew this place, Ignis didn't. He couldn't just shoot blind at any movement he saw, Prompto was here too. Probably injured and mistrustful, as he should be. If he came after Ignis... well, he could incapacitate Prompto if he had to, but he'd rather not. He had to keep moving. 

Quick and quiet, at the end of a hallway, back against a wall and half hidden in a doorway, gun raised. He would wait then, wait for Ardyn to pass by. He breathed, feeling shaky, lungs desperate for more but it felt like he was making too much noise just trying to keep himself steady. He couldn't keep his hands from shaking and-

_Ardyn,_ at the end of the hallway materializing as if from nothing and Ignis took the shot. Another hit to his chest and Ardyn smiled while Ignis turned to run into the next room, _waiting, waiting, listening_ , and when the floor creaked as Ardyn came for him he shot a hole through the wall to the hallway where Ardyn should be. 

"Missed."

_Should_ have been. And then Ardyn's hand darted through the hole in the crumbling wall and he yanked Ignis's outstretched arm through, caught. His grip was binding and he pried the gun out of Ignis's hand, as much as he struggled he couldn't hold on and he couldn't break free. 

"How disappointing," Ardyn said, "your skill has been vastly over exaggerated. You can do better than this, surely." And then he snapped Ignis's pinky finger.

He bit back a scream, clawing at the wall and trying to yank his hand back before there was another crack, and Ardyn broke his ring finger as well. His mind went blank, a fiery shot of pain, hand gone slack. 

"Now, let's try this again, shall we?" Ardyn said, and stuck his gun back in his mangled hand before giving it a little pat and releasing him. 

Ignis yanked his arm back, ran out into the hallway but Ardyn was gone, disappeared. 

He took his gun in his left hand, trembling hard, and kept moving, slow and quiet once again. 

There was a thump, somewhere far off like something heavy hitting the ground. Like a body. He ran.

Closer now, he heard something that could have been a muffled cry, someone in pain and he slipped through Luna's work room, filled with body parts and unfinished Replicants. 

"Up,"  a face staring up at him from the table as he walked past, eyes moving, blinking, and black hair sprawled around her beautiful face. "They're going up." Ignis kept moving, chasing Ardyn chasing Prompto, heart pounding. 

As Ignis moved out from the most lived-in rooms the state of the building's disrepair became all the more apparent. Puddles and cracked walls, dusty floors. The place was falling apart. He followed the sounds, real or imagined, only the occasional clap of thunder to interrupt the echoes in the apartment. There was the sharp sound of shattering glass and Ignis lurched towards it, forward and into a decrepit bathroom of chipped porcelain and missing tiles, where rain was splattering in through a broken window from where Ardyn stood. He took the time to give Ignis a devious look before climbing outside and going _up_. Ignis ran over, looking outside and squinting against the storm, and he could see Prompto scaling the wall, farther up. Being chased or leading Ardyn away, he didn't know, but either way it wouldn't end well. Ignis holstered his gun and climbed outside.

Up.

Climbing was difficult with two fingers ruined, but that wasn't stopping him, not when he was full of adrenaline, not when he watched Prompto disappear onto the top of the roof, Ardyn close behind. His hands were wet and cold and clumsy, but he hauled himself up and over the ledge.

Ardyn's back was to him. Away stood Prompto, hair wet and plastered to the side of his head, expression frantic. Rain was washing away the blood on his face. It looked like his nose had been broken, a cut over his eye, but he still had his gun and that was good, he had it raised towards Ardyn.

Ignis pulled a dagger out and sent it sailing forward and felt a surge of satisfaction as he watched it lodge itself between Ardyn's shoulder blades.

Ardyn turned on him. Ignis went for his gun.

He was fast, too fast for Ignis to have any chance of getting away or taking a shot before he felt a hand close around his throat and lift him high enough that his feet were off the ground.

" _Ignis!_ "

If he had his voice, if he could yell he would have told Prompto to run, to get away while he could. Ardyn squeezed tighter.  

"You fight so hard, and for what? For him?" No more smiles and laughter, Ardyn was seething with something dark, still covered in that black blood and his eyes were far too bright, like he was lit from the inside. "We all _die_ , don't we? You see it, you know it's true and you still want to pretend it all _means_ something don't you? You may as well be blind," he snarled and bent his free hand into a claw and dove his fingers deep into Ignis's eye socket. 

He screamed. White flashed in front of his eyes, lightning or pain he didn't know and he felt those fingers dig and pull. Nails ripped at his skin, the left side of his face was on fire.

"No!" He heard a gunshot, too loud, too close, and Ardyn dropped him like a sack of bricks and he hit the ground hard.

His eye. His eye was gone. 

Prompto was over him, swung a leg up high and hit Ardyn in the face with his boot, not enough to do real damage, just enough to catch him off guard again, already staggered from the first shot and Prompto lunged forward again and shot him point blank in his face. 

Dark blood sprayed around them with the rain and Ardyn fell. 

Prompto stood over him, took aim and shot him again. And again. And again. 

Every shot punctuated by a though; _dead, dead, dead_. 

It was done. 

"Ignis?" Prompto's hands were cold on his face. He hadn't realized his eyes had closed. Eye. His eye had closed. Not until he opened it again and had to squint against the rain, Prompto's blurry face over him looking panicked. His nose had definitely been broken, a swollen cheek that would turn into a bruise soon stood out. How long had him and Ardyn been at their game of cat and mouse before Ignis had joined in? 

He should have been quicker. 

Prompto pulled him upright, set him to lean against the ledge of the building while he ripped a strip of cloth off of his shirt and pressed it into the ruin of his eye. Prompto's face said it all. It was bad. He was losing too much blood, could feel it running hot down his face. Prompto pushed harder, more pressure to staunch the wound, the sudden flair of pain brining him in the moment, cutting through the clouds that were forming in his mind.

"Ignis I don't know what to do. There's a lot of blood." He looked frantic. With his good hand he found one of Prompto's, pulled it away from the wound so he could hold it in his own. 

"I'm sorry," he said, so quiet it was almost breathless so he said it again, getting Prompto's attention while he was still staring at hole in his head, mouth curling like he was trying not to cry. It seemed very important that he get this out now, while he had the chance.  "I'm sorry," and finally Prompto looked at him dead in the eye, hands pressing hard on his face and the fabric bunched there. The words swam in his head and he tried to catch them, like butterflies but he didn't have a net. "I was... I wanted to... you were supposed to leave the city. I didn't think you'd leave if you thought I had any sort of attachment to you. I was trying to keep you safe." He laughed, weak and bitter, and from somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was losing too much blood, getting delirious. "You're always doing what I don't expect. I try to predict your movements and I can't. I can't get a grasp on you." 

"Because I'm a Replicant," Prompto said, flat. A fact. 

"No," Ignis said, "No. Because you're Prompto."

His hands stilled and Prompto looked at Ignis like he wanted to believe it was true, desperately. It was. 

"Listen to me," Ignis said, fading fast, "Security is most lax on the south side of the city. Go to Lestallum. It's safe there, from demons. Keep your head down and they won't come for you there. You'll be safe if you're careful."

"Ignis-"

" _Go_. You don't have much time and I can't do anything if they find you here." Like to prove his point, the faint noise of sirens could be heard in the distance. It wouldn't be long now.

"No, I'm not leaving without you."

"You're going to have to."

" _No_ -"

"Prompto," Ignis gripped his hand tighter, stopping him from moving, making him focus. "The police Captain will be here soon, and he'll be bringing more Blade Runners with him. I can not protect you if they find you here, you'll be killed."

"But-"

" _Go_ , you have to leave. I'll give you as much time as I can, but I have to stay."

Prompto still wanted to argue, defiant look on his face, but it would be the death of him, and Ignis needed a medic. He said nothing, just found determination when he gripped Ignis's hands tight, leaning in closer and then he was gone, running. Down to the far end of the roof where he could climb down easy and disappear into some back alley, tracks covered by the pouring rain. 

Ignis tilted his head up to the sky and let the sirens wash over him. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was as close to happy as Cor Leons had ever looked. 

They found him still slumped on the roof, soaked in blood and rain and alone. Nothing but Ardyn's dead body keeping him company, a mess of gore and machinery where his head should have been. Flashing lights flooded his vision and Cor stood over him, pausing a moment at the gaping wound on his face, gushing blood over his fingers. "The Replicants?" he asked. 

"Retired." It was a lie that felt real, and only then did Cor call for a medic. 

They shot him full of enough pain killers to make him feel mostly numb, and if he weren't already hazy from blood loss that would have done it. He fought to keep his head as clear as possible through it all, Cor coming back to question him as he was getting bandaged even when the EMT tried to shoo him away. The last thing he needed was to let something slip, give something away.

Where was Prompto's body?

The roof, he said, Ardyn pushed him from the top of the roof before he had a chance to kill Prompto himself, then he shot Ardyn, strong enough to make a final push from all the adrenaline in his system with his injury, no doubt. Cor didn't even look suspicious. His reward for being one of the best Blade Runners Insomnia had ever seen, finally paying off. They shut the doors of the ambulance before Cor had a chance to come back for another round of questions and took him to the hospital. 

Gladio came to see him.

He hobbled in on crutches, leg mostly healed but that didn't stop him from complaining about it with a scowl on his face insisting _he could walk just fine_. Another day or two and he'd be released and back on duty, keeping the streets safe from Replicants once again. 

"Heard what happened from a rookie with a big mouth, said your face got ripped to shreds," he smiled, "you don't look so bad to me." Ignis didn't smile back. "I'm glad you're ok. You're the best we got, you know?" Gladio even looked sincere when he said it.

The bandages were making his face itch and Ignis tried to find a way to scratch at it without making pain flare through his head. 

"Thanks," he said and wished it sounded like he meant it. His misery wasn't Gladio's fault. That was something that couldn't be blamed on a single person. Though Ignis appreciated the effort and what Gladio was trying to do, it didn't change the fact that he just wanted to be alone. There was no victory to celebrate here and the best he could hope for was time to lick his wounds in peace with nothing but the memory of blonde hair and freckles to keep him company. Prompto was probably long gone by now, not safe yet but he would be soon if he kept moving. He was a little bit of light that shone bright in a dark place. He carried hope and optimism through a city drenched in rain and blood. He was alive and free and that was enough. He wouldn't share Ignis's fate. It would have to be enough.

"They said the engineers had been messing around with the one skin job, illegal shit. Too many untested modifications I guess. Good thing you got it before the thing killed someone else."

Ignis said nothing.

"And the other Replicant-"

"Retired." The same lie Ignis had given Cor, tumbling out of his mouth before Gladio could try and have this conversation. 

They at least still trusted him enough to believe it. For now. 

Gladio left soon after, picking up on the fact that Ignis didn't want to talk and he was the kind of person that would make excuses for Ignis in his head. _It's been a long day, he just took out two Replicants by himself, he lost his eye, let him rest_. If only Ignis could. 

He waited until the nurse came around again then pressed the pain button they'd given him for another shot of morphine before he got out of bed. His suit was still damp and stained with blood but he had nothing else to wear. The throbbing in his head made his movements slow but he'd be damned if he was going to sit in a hospital bed and wait for Cor Leons to make another appearance, congratulating him on such a successful hunt. He wanted to be alone.

He took a taxi home. 

It was hard not to stare at the corner of the elevator where Prompto had been, hard not to think about him outside of Ignis's door, alone and lonely and saying he had nowhere else to go. Hard to pretend none of this had happened and hard to go back to life as it was before but he would manage. He would have to manage. He had to keep reminding himself that the alternative to all of this was Prompto dead and that was a reality he wanted even less. He stood outside of his own door and reminded himself that this was the best outcome he could have hoped for. He let himself inside. 

... and was promptly knocked back against the door as it shut, arms wrapped around him in a death grip like he was about to float away.

Prompto had rushed him from the left, in a blind spot he wasn't used to having and then his vision was all blonde hair. He was still woozy from blood loss and drugs and he was losing his balance, sliding down to the floor, Prompto slipping down with him, not willing to let go and rambling all the while.

"I though you- there was so much blood I thought- I thought you were..." He was gasping, like he couldn't quite catch his breath, and had his face pressed into the hollow of Ignis's throat. 

"Takes more than that to kill a Blade Runner," he said, letting heavy arms wrap around Prompto's shoulders. He wasn't entirely sure this was real, and not just some pain induced hallucination. He felt lips on his neck, chapped but warm. "You were supposed to leave the city."

Prompto was shaking his head, "No, not without you."

"It's not safe here and I can't protect you. I told them you were dead, but when they can't find a body..."

"You came for me." Prompto sat back, put his hands on Ignis's face, careful of the bandage. "I knew," he said, "I knew it was real and I knew you didn't mean it when you..." He took a breath, pinching his eyes closed for a moment, "you came for me," he said again and then leaned in and kissed Ignis with everything he had, not like last time, fumbling through it, but certain now. Sure of what he wanted. And Ignis kissed him back. 

He broke off, but Prompto stayed close, pressing their foreheads together, eyes still closed. "You have to leave," he said and hated that he could hear the melancholy in his own voice. _Go now, be free, escape_.  _Leave me_. 

"You deserve it too," Prompto said, voice shaking like the hands still resting on Ignis's face, "a shot at happiness. This city'll suck you dry if you let it. So don't let it." And he kissed Ignis again, something short. "This place doesn't own you."

Maybe he was speaking from experience and maybe he was right. And maybe it was just pain and exhaustion but Ignis couldn't think of an argument against why that wasn't true when for all of his life he felt like he was a part of this city and the city was a part of him, something he couldn't escape. Maybe he just needed something worth fighting for, something to pull him out.

Prompto leaned in and kissed him again and Ignis gladly let him, again and again. 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The train car jostled as it slowed, enough to shake Ignis awake. He opened his eye.  

Midday sun streamed though the window next to him, washing his world in gold and yellow, nothing more than a blur. He felt warmth press close next to him. Turned out getting clearance to leave the city wasn't too hard to do when you were a Blade Runner hero, injured in the line of duty. No one pressed too hard about where he was going or why he needed two passes. Questions would come later, when they started to suspect. Ignis would be long gone by then.

"Have we arrived?"

"Just a quick stop at Hammerhead" Prompto's voice was low and calm, near enough to blow at his hair and make it tickle, "I'll wake you when we get to Lestallum." He pressed a kiss in that hidden space behind Ignis's ear, like a secret. "Go back to sleep."

He felt Prompto's hand sneak into his, where it was resting on his lap, felt the weight of Prompto's head on his shoulder, and a few minutes later as the train started moving again, their legs rocked against each other with every bump in the tracks, swaying in unison. 

He leaned his head back against the seat, squeezing the warm hand held in his when Prompto started humming something soft, a tune he didn't recognize.

Ignis closed his eye and dreamed of sheep. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone that has stuck with me through this, you've all been so fantastic ;_;
> 
> there's no way to say it so that it sounds sincere, but all the comments/kudos have truly meant a lot. I didn't expect this thing to get much attention, and every bit of feedback along the way has been pleasant and surprising and i appreciate everyone that's taken the time to read this dumb au thank you all i am going to go lay down for a very long time now


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